Heart Shaped Box

I sit here in the wee hours with tears. I write this as the moments of 8 years ago are reminisced on. I lost my dad Paul 8 years ago today. I know this is my pin up page but it's also a personal space to share things as well. My dad Paul was a survivor. He survived being crushed by a car and survived somehow being with my mom. He eas made of tough stuff but as gentle as a lamb and sensitive beyond. He had eyes like mine or rather mine were his. I stared at him one day not even meaning to and i apologized for it, he said Sabrina it's ok and laughed. I held every line in his face to memory in that stare and a month later he was gone. Myocardial infarction....a heart attack. He was 58.
How does one begin an homage to the person that not only created her but made her world absolutely colorful. I can only start by saying i love him more than my life. I didn't say it enough, i held sentiments like that close because i was just that person in ways a little. I still am. I wish i threw those words out like confetti always and all days.   I regret never saying it enough or telling him how proud i was of him each and every day. I miss playing dolls with him and the visitors from another planet who took form in hand puppets to keep a little girl smiling. I miss his my strength even though he thought he always faltered. He was my hero. His eyes shined yet held a particular form of sad in ways just like mine. I was made to be his daughter, a little template of him. We got each other...we knew what each other was thinking even in the punchline of a joke. He could make me smile even through the hardest of moments....the only moment he couldn't was when he could no longer hold my hand as i kneeled before him in his permanent slumber. I miss him everyday....8 years has been the blink of an eye yet I've changed so much. I pray he looks down on me and knows how hard i try to honor him everyday with every breath in me. And when my time here is done i want to see that light in his eyes again. I want to see it dance across them just like they do in mine when i think of him. I want to hold his hand again weathered by hard work and time. I want to tell him i love him and how sorry i was that i held those words steadfast to my heart. Lastly i want to tell him how proud of him i was and how lucky i was for him to be my dad.