Today is the 13th anniversary of my dad’s death. I was 19. He was 47. Massive heart attack, died in my arms.

I miss him terribly…so much it hurts. The pain stays fresh no matter how much time passes.

I honestly had no intention of crying when I took this picture, but the tears came, and it felt good.

I’ll never know what it’s like to have daddy walk me down the aisle. Or hear the laughter of my daughter playing with her grandpa. But I have 19 years of very wonderful memories to cling to, and stories to share with my daughter.

Daddy is alive and well in my heart. I would just give anything to have him here for 5 minutes, just to hug him and hear him say he’s proud of me.

Happy Father’s Day tomorrow, Daddy. I love you so much, and miss you like crazy.

Love, Kirsty-Poo XOXO


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