Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious (which has nothing to do with this post, just wanted to see if I could spell it. Score!)

As my Grandpa always warned me about, time is flying by at the speed of sound. Or light. Or Dude's spaghetti consumption. Don't blink.
Coco turned 7 in May and often frames time such as, "a looong time ago, back when I was 6". Evidently, time isn't speeding by for her quite yet. I didn't write a birthday letter to her. I hate that. But it would be quite similar to last year's anyway.... still loved like crazy. Still stink at listening. Still extraordinarily beautiful, inside and out. Still drink with your tongue out.

This month, Mary turned FIVE. (Predictable mommy reaction): My baby is FIVE! FIVE! Sooooob! Stop it! Stop it now!! I didn't write a birthday letter. Just like last year. Oh, the gift that keeps on giving - Mommy Guilt. She has changed a lot since she was three. Especially her pronunciation of 'yellow'. Those rotten preschool teachers taught her something. Grrrr. Even after I threatened their lives if they 'ruined' her (you think I jest). Adorably, she still says 'yey-yow' when trying to please me. Which is NOT OFTEN ENOUGH! She's not happy about going to school - in less than two weeks - not happy at all. She'll dissolve into tears and break my heart every time it's mentioned. My heart has taken quite a beating lately.

My dad has been gone 7 months. Seven months has never seemed so short. And so long. I've been advised I should use the word 'gone' - I guess it makes it easier to hear but to me, it doesn't diminish the agony behind the meaning. A large part of me is still in shock. I suffocatingly miss him. He's still on my 'favorites' list in my cell phone, although moved to the bottom so my heart has a chance to breathe every now and then. Life is changed. Drastically, completely, thoroughly and forever changed. Some changes are/were predictable after someone dies. Some come out of left field and smack you upside the head. Hard. Really hard. Really, really hard. Really, really, really hard. Some I'm not dealing well with. I'm so TRYING to take it all in stride but I'm often a big, fat failure. Relationships change. Some good. Some not as good. Some WHAT THE HECK. What I wouldn't give to have control over these changes. But just re-reading that now, I know how flawed that is. A lot of it is not mine to change. I DON'T and CAN'T control things. I SHOULDN'T. I shouldn't even WANT to. God promises that ALL things work together for those that love Him and are called according to His purpose. No, He doesn't promise all things ARE good, but promises they'll make a beautiful tapestry to tell the story of our lives, weaving in and out of blissful times, hard times and the lives of others. I must stop trying, wishing, hoping to control. I need to be prayerful. Thoughtful. Selfless. Prayerful. Understanding. Prayerful. God is ultimately in control. Thank you, God, for that solid and comforting TRUTH.

Sometimes, though, thankfully, I'm at peace with Daddy being in heaven. Because he IS IN HEAVEN! Imagine!! Really, IMAGINE. Wow. All of our human drama, these stresses, this pain, these circumstances... are so tiny in comparison to what lies ahead.

But still. There's so much I miss about what was. There's a lot to miss.

See what I mean?