It's Christmas and my Dad is THERE.

Dad? Hey. It's me. I wish I could pretty this up, but since I can't, I just need to tell you. God, I miss you. I know you're in heaven and all, celebrating Jesus' birthday WITH Him, but know what? I'd rather have you down here, celebrating Christmas with ME. I miss your smile. I miss your laugh. I miss the way you smelled. Like aftershave and work and diabetes. I miss the way you knew me. I miss the way I knew you. I miss making you laugh and making you say, "That's my girl." even sarcastically.

I haven't dreamed of you lately. Have you forgotten me? I know you haven't, but saying you might have makes my depression seem more valid. Sometimes I picture you just a whisper away, wanting to reach out, but knowing that this world's physics are different enough to not allow it. I feel you here, Dad. I know you're near. But sometimes it ain't good enough. I hope you understand.

I'm so nervous about Sarah going to Iraq. I'm missing Dan. I wonder if it will kill Jeff to call once in a few years. I wonder if Michelle is even TRYING to get her kids back. I worry about the hard future Ashley faces, being 16 and pregnant. I worry about Jessi at college. I've got this damn mother hen instinct towards my cousins that won't go away. I want to take over, but I want to step back, and those two cannot go hand in hand. I want to let people live, but I want to say, "Hey! I've done some of these things, and I can tell you about them!" But, I don't. All this angst inside of me has GOT to come out sometime and when it does, run for cover.