Katrina over at Callapidder Days has a beautiful tribute up to her father, who died thirteen years ago. The post is a reprint from two years ago, hence it's called Eleven Years, but don't let that confuse you!
A little bit:
But the one thing that breaks my heart, the one thing that I think of in the late days of August every year...is that my kids won't have the joy of knowing him in this life. And oh, how he would have loved them. He would have bounced them on his knee, told them corny jokes, tossed them giggling onto the bed long after I asked him to stop. He would have coaxed a giggle from Logan. And he would have absolutely loved Camden's analytical, inquisitive mind, and the hilarious things that come out of his mouth. And I just know that my boys would have adored their Grandpa.
It's interesting because my son was transferred to the Hospital for Sick Children thirteen years ago today, too, and he never left. He never recovered from his surgery. So I guess Katrina and I have something in common! Anyway, go read her story, and then read this post I just wrote about grief.
Labels: Christopher, grief