Father’s Day is this weekend and it’s tough. Every holiday is tough when you lose a parent, but especially the ones meant just for them.
Last year, I thought Father’s Day was rough, but my dad was still here. Dad had been admitted to the hospital on the second day of our honeymoon and we had no idea until the last night of our cruise when we were back in range of U.S. cell towers. He was still in the hospital on Father’s Day, but I got to call him and talk with him. This year I can’t.
A couple of weeks ago, I ventured into the card aisle on a mission for birthday and sympathy cards during lunch. I like to think that I’m pretty good at shopping for sympathy cards, I know what words brought the tiniest bit of comfort to me and I know that glitter is never appropriate, it’s like fake cheer. While walking through the aisles of cards, I ended up in the Father’s Day section. I thought for about two seconds that I could pick up a card for my father-in-law while I was there… I couldn’t even pick up a card without feeling like I was going to burst into tears.
Although nice, none of the commemorative ornaments, Relay for Life luminaries or photographs can take away the ache associated with missing your father. No one tells you Read the rest of this entry
I feel that after 4 years of college, attending two schools and being in every living situation possible, I ought to impart some of my experiences in hopes of benefiting others in their collegiate careers.
… and sometimes I just feel like telling stories! Today is a story day.
It was ingrained in me throughout my childhood that you should not talk about other people behind their backs or make statements that are not true… so then last week my good friend overhears a conversation about Brad (my fiance) and, in part, about me.
My friend was in the library (one of the most public places on campus) and a group of students next to her are discussing a class and the conversation flowed something like this: