Today is your party. The day where you wanted all your friends together, with music and tequila. The day we tried to envision through tears and hugs from the kitchen island, in early November. We came to an agreement that day, that you wanted everyone to smile, to laugh, and to be happy. And that you expected me to get very, very intoxicated.
I’m totally going to cry through my smile.
I miss you so, so, so much, and when I think of you being gone I’m filled with a dull emptiness. How much longer do I have to wait for that gap to stop physically and aggressively forcing me to sit down with its heaviness? It hurts.
I’ve reached my cap of memories with you, but today, I get to share the ones I have with others. Dad, Papito, we will think of you happily, and we will dance and smile. That’s what you would do for us, and ultimately, you deserve happy kids.
But I’m not going to lie, I fucking miss everything that was you. What I wouldn’t give for just one more hug. I really hope we make you proud today, and that you are honoured in a way that you earned by living the gracious, loving, and inspiring life that you did.
We love you.
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