It’s Been Five Years

It’s been five years. I lost my Faja five years ago today. I reflect every year on this day, recounting all he has missed and what I have missed. I hugged my nephew and brother, knowing we only now have each other. Three Milne’s robbed of the man from whom our souls were created. My nephew and my future kids will never meet him, which is almost the hardest of the pills to swallow. 

It’s been five years. Sometimes, I believe I’ll see him again. It usually hits as I drive to our favorite bagel spot and past our old house on Terra Court. It feels like the wind is knocked out of me, and I have to remember he’s gone, and I’ll never see him again. 

It’s been five years. I laugh when I talk about him and how he’s gone to help myself cope. I think he would want it that way. But deep down, laughing about the worst thing I’ve ever been through makes me feel sick. 

It’s been five years. I’ve graduated twice. I’ve lived in a new city. I’ve moved four times. I’ve become an aunt. I’ve lost family and friends, both alive and dead. I’ve made new friends. I’ve had my heart broken. I’ve been diagnosed with an incurable illness. I’ve fallen in love. I’ve traveled the world. I met the man I will tell him children about. 

It’s been five years of missing my dad, who meant the world to me.