You shouldn't have been taken. You should have been saved. You should have been healed. There are so many things that I want to say to you and to share with you. There are still so many days when all I want is a hug from my Dad. But you've been stolen from us and I'm not sure what to do. There are things I'd love to tell you because they make me laugh and I wish so much that I could see you laugh again too. I'm into my third year of teaching. It's the same as always! I sometimes wonder what advice you would be giving me. I feel as though I just want to quit and run away to another country to experience something different and to see the world, and although I think I can hear your voice saying, "you go for it girl," I'm also pretty sure you'd be making me think carefully about any big changes. So I'm waiting to see how this week pans out. If it's the same as always...I'm going to start making a move. I really hope you're going to be there looking out for me.
I'd love for you to come back to us. For this to all be a big mistake. I know God doesn't make mistakes but I'm hoping that he'll do a double check and realise He made one this time when He took you from us. And that God will work some miracles and give you back to us healed.
Your chair still has the indentation of you in it. Sometimes when I get up for work I keep hoping I'll look in the living room and see you there. But of course you never are anymore and you never will be again. I wish God would give you back. I wish I could tell you all about my travel plans to America next summer and then tell you all the crazy things Luke and I got up to. But I can't. I can't see you laughing anymore. I want you to know how much we all love you; how fantastic you were as a Dad; how home just isn't the same without you here.
I miss you so much Dad. I love you forever and always xxxxx
