6 months

 Every time I think of you it's like the wound is open wide again. I don't hyper ventilate cry as much anymore, but the tears still come. I hate dreaming of you because I wake up and remember your gone. I remember my kids are growing up without their papa. It's the worst. 

I miss your almost daily phone calls, I miss your advice, I miss yelling at you that it's your turn, I miss the feel of your scratchy yet soft and actually groomed beard when I'd kiss your cheeks. I miss getting mad at your for hurting your head again and why aren't you wearing a hard hat? I miss you being the whitest person in the summer when we compared legs on the boat. I miss boating with you. I miss bringing you lunch while we all ate on the beach. I miss you. This summers been hard without you in it. We've had fun, but it's not the same. Nothing's the same. 

It's not fair. All you had to do was wake up. 

Parker said papa for the first time yesterday. I sometimes hope he isn't talking as much as he should be because he's talking with you still. You missed him walking, your missing his laughs and so much. It's not fair. 

Emerly misses you and wants to go to heaven to get you back. She doesn't scream I miss papa as much in tantrums anymore, partly I think because I've stopped crying by her. 

I think of you every day, and I just want to talk to you and you talk back. Just one more time.

I can't write anymore because now I'm bawling. So much for not hyper ventilate crying anymore.