September 5, 2025 – what a day. I woke up so excited to get my girls ready for their first day of school— specifically, my high school Senior. I couldn’t wait to pick them up and hear all about what the beginning of 3rd and 12th grade was like for them. Not mention, it was also my mother’s 62nd birthday. And while celebrating her over cake and ice cream, I got the phone call that’ll stick with me for the rest of my life. My Dad passed away.
Dying is inevitable, I know. But still, the experience of losing someone you loved so much, every day of your life, comes with a shock you never want to get used to.
This Father’s Day felt different. But I made it through.
It’s my first Father’s Day without my dad, and if I’m being honest, it took me a long time to write these words. For months, I couldn’t fully comprehend what I was feeling. Grief has a weird way of showing up in unexpectedly. Some days I felt okay, and other days the reality of his absence would hit me as if I’d just heard the news.
It’s been over nine months, and there are still moments when it doesn’t feel real. I find myself wanting to call him, tell him about something funny that happened, share good news, or simply hear his voice one more time. He used to call just to tell me something interesting that might have happened to him that day, or to discuss an episode of one of our favorite crime shows; it was kind of our thing. But now? I’ll never see “Dad” pop up on my caller ID. I’m never going to hear him call me ‘Sparky’ or ‘Lex Luger’ ever again. Wow.
My dad was my financial advisor, my tax guy since my very first paycheck. The one I called when I had any little issue with my car and the one who used to let me drive his while I was still in high school.
I thought by now I would have the right words. I thought I would be able to neatly package my feelings into a blog post and move on. But grief doesn’t work that way. There is no timeline. No roadmap. No “right” way to miss someone who helped shape your life.
This year, Father’s Day is filled with both gratitude and sadness. Gratitude for the memories, lessons, laughter, and love my father gave me. Sadness because I would give anything to make one more Father’s Day phone call or see his face. And what makes this even more painful, is missing the things that didn’t happen yet. Like, you walking me down the isle on my wedding day and giving me away to a man that loves me just as much as you did 💔
What I’ve learned over these last nine months is that love doesn’t end when someone leaves this earth. It continues in the stories we tell, the lessons we carry, the traditions we keep, and the people we become because of them.
Today, I’m allowing myself to feel it all—the heartbreak, the gratitude, the memories, and the love.
To anyone else spending Father’s Day missing their dad, know that you’re not alone. Be gentle with yourself. Celebrate the memories. Cry if you need to. Smile when the good moments come to mind. Love doesn’t disappear, and neither do the footprints our fathers leave on our hearts.
Dad, I miss you more than words can say. Thank you for everything you gave me, everything you taught me, and every part of you that still lives within me. I hope I continue to make you proud.
Happy Father’s Day in Heaven. ❤️
Have you lost your dad? How have you coped, especially during a day like today? 😔😢
TTYL,
Lexi 💋
