Just stepped out on the porch to have a smoke. And I'm standing there thinking and realize what tomorrow is. Today, whatever. Friday, August 29th. Next Friday will be September 5th. That day's never great for me, but it just happened to hit me while I was standing on the porch. Staring into the darkness, a lone tear started to form in my right eye. Then in my left. Before I knew it, more began flowing.

    Now, I'm not a cryer, folks. A tear from me is quite a feat...but every time I think about dad, it's all that happens. September 5, 2004. In one week, it will be four years, and although I know that each day passes, and I look at the date and see each month and year gradually flying by, it never feels any different. I thought that as time went on, it would get easier, but every day hits me like a ton of bricks. Good days and bad days, good days and bad days, it's supposed to keep in that constant rotation...but as is my standard, I break away from the norm. I do what I can to make every day a good day, but each day passes, and especially on the days that I talk to mom, it makes me realize that I can't talk to dad, which in turn breaks me down.

    I don't ask for sympathy, nor do I ask for compassion. That's just not me. I've lived so much of my life with people offering one or the other, but never offering any help for what issue I was facing, save for my family, so for me, sympathy and compassion are just kind words that are nice to hear, but never really do much to take the pain away.

    I don't know where I'm going with this. I guess I just wanted to say something about how much I miss dad. For so long, I took my parents for granted, but especially dad, due to the fact that I was so close to him.

    And so, on September 5th, probably around 6AM, which is my norm for this, I will be going to the cemetery. Whether it's in jeans and a t-shirt, shirt and a tie, I don't know. But I will be there. Just thought I would post this.