This week used to be one of my favorite weeks every year. Growing up, the week that included my dad’s birthday and Father’s Day was the time where I really wanted to make my dad feel special. I always wanted to come up with the best gift, make the most special creation, or find the perfect card including a sentimental message camouflaged by crude humor. It doesn’t sound like me, but it would have been right up his alley.

But now, this week is one of my worst. Ten years ago was the last birthday I had to share with him. It was the last Father’s Day where I didn’t feel awkward and out of place in the card aisle. I miss him every single day, some days more than others. But this week is always one of the worst.

I know he’s in a better place. I know he’s watching over me and I truly do see his crazy, fun spirit in my son. But I miss him, and I still don’t think it’s fair that he’s gone. And I think I’ll be happier when this week is over. The pain is still there. I’ll miss him forever.


About Becky

I am a wife, mother, a teacher, and a Christ-follower. I am imperfect in every sense of the word, and I'm learning to be okay with that. I'm learning to live more kindly and purposefully. I desire to become who I am meant to be in Christ, to "be completely humble and gentle, be patient, bearing with one another in love" (Ephesians 4:2).

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