another first

As we prepare to go to the beach soon, I find myself getting alternately anxious, snappish, sullen, borderline catatonic, and dreadful (dread-full?).  I realized why tonight. It's because my dad won't be with us.

Don and me with Jack (Irene was in my belly!) plus my dad

My dad didn't love the beach, and when I was a little girl, would go only for a long weekend at the most, but in recent years (perhaps especially due to the grandkids), he would go for the whole week and seemed to have a really good time.

Helping Jack at the kiddie boat ride

He would kill me for using this photo with the silly expression, but it's so cute!

Often, this is where you could find him. Sitting on the couch with a good book in his hands (last year he was reading my copy of Eugene Peterson's The Pastor.)

Reading, with Jack horsing around on the couch

I will miss him so, so much. It's another first; another time doing something without him that we always did with him. I know he will be there with us in spirit, and since there is something magical and supernatural about the ocean, perhaps we'll have some sort of encounter. But, it will be a tough time; we miss his because we wish he were there with us, in body, with touch, real voice, real presence. This grieving thing still totally breaks my heart. I know people say the pain will ease, but we have a lot of firsts like this to get through first.