When you lose someone you love,

not a day goes by that you don't think about them.

Though lots of days go by without them around.

To bounce ideas off.

To complain about work to.

To seek support from.

To ask for advice.

To laugh with.

To eat with.

To just sit with.

To banter with.

To fight with.

To cry with.

To
do
anything with.

To hug.

To fall into the arms of

whenever you need.

When you lose someone you love, you lose their physical presence, yes, but what you don't lose is the presence of their love.

Of their lessons.

Of the mark they made on

you,

on others,

on the world that was lucky enough to have them as a part of it.

When you lose someone you love, you wonder how you will get on with your life and you curse that they were stolen from yours.

But the memories they leave behind haven't been taken,

and it is those,

and your courage

that gets you through the days.

The days that turn into years,

without them.

By your side.

And in your corner.

But also

forever by your side.

And in your corner.

I lost my dad ten years ago today.

That's ten years of missing the man I wouldn't be here without.

But thanks to the twenty-six years I did have with him,

and him ingraining in me the idea that

we let nothing break us...

we handle everything that comes at us...

and we do it because

1) we are capable

and

2) we won't let a damn soul or situation - no matter how bad or challenging - convince us otherwise,

I’m okay.

I miss him dearly,

but I’m okay.

So here we go, Dad.

Here I go.

On another journey of a year without you,

but, still, very much with you.

I KNOW you are traveling these paths with me, Dad,

and it’s knowing that,

which keeps me going.