I'll always keep asking why...

I'm mad. I'm mad because my dad isn't here. He's missed so many big events in my life since February 2, 2006. He missed me turning 18, 19, and 20 (so far). He missed me graduating high school. He missed me going to college and dropping out. He's missed the privilege of being the father of a (then) teenaged girl. He's missed the fun of interrogating the boyfriends/dates. He's missed 3 Father's Days, so far. He's missed Mom turning 50. 

 

There have been so many times that I wish I could talk to him. So many times that I could talk to him about college, friends, family, God, life, and guys. I wish I could just lay my head on his chest, listen to his heartbeat, and feel safe. I miss his smell--he used to smell like Irish Spring soap and Old Spice deodorant. 

  

But what sense does it make that a seemingly healthy man could fall and nearly shatter his knee and end up dead three weeks later???