I'm not good at blog post titles....

"I miss you so much. I have never understood it when people say they miss someone so much it hurts. I have never lost someone too soon until now. Every second of everyday I miss you. I miss you so much for the kids. J started soccer camp today and when I got a chance to be alone I finally broke down. You were looking forward to this week, taking him to camp and being with him for his first time participating in sports. This is so hard. I just miss you. "
This is the message I left on Facebook tonight in the RIP Phil page. I have obviously lived an easy life. I never knew it until now. But now I know. My great-grandma died at the age of 103 in 2008, when I was 25 years old. It was sad, but it didn't HURT like this. I was sad to say goodbye to her, but I really was okay with it. And I did love her. She was and still is one of my favorite people. She is the best role model I've ever had, and I still want to be just like her. I miss her. I love her. But I don't HURT for her.

Phil was the first person in my life to die tragically, and too soon. I have all my grandparents (except for my father's father, who died tragically when my father was 12, so I never knew him), I have all aunts, uncles, cousins, parents, siblings, friends. I have attended very few funerals in my life and with the exception of my Nanna, I've never been the "family" of the deceased.

I miss Phil. Almost every thought I have is followed by a thought of Phil. "What's for dinner?"- If Phil were here, I'd be cooking for him too. "John's acting up" -- I can't call Phil for back up. "Maggie's crawling" -- I want to call Phil and tell him. "Driving down the road" -- Every field is one that I've been to with him, picked him up from, etc. I seriously can't THINK. I miss him for my children. Because he loved them SO much. More than anything I've ever seen, he loved my children and my nephew so much. He talked about them constantly. He was so excited when I told him about soccer camp and happily volunteered to take him. John starts preschool soon. Little Red School. Just like George and I and our siblings. We all attended LRS. When I was looking at preschool's to enroll John for the fall, Phil told me that I could only send him to LRS because that's where he wanted him to go and that he would take him and pick him up every day for me. I wish so much that he was here to take him to school. The day of the accident was his last day of planting beans for the season and then he was going to be done working for a while. On the Monday before the accident on the way home from the ball game Phil said to John, "I'm almost done with these beans boy, and then it's going to be you and me all summer, we're gonna do us some stuff!". He also told me that week that he was ready to take Maggie down to the bar (George's Lounge) on the golf cart. He was really gaining confidence with her. He was very confident in his abilities to take care of his grandchildren. He was a GOOD Papa.
I just miss him tremendously. Things are changing BIG time around here. Change is inevitable. But this hurts. I wish he was here. I'm learning to build new relationships with new people. This weekend we had a benefit motorcycle ride for him. I was blessed to meet lots of new people. People who knew him and loved him too. I want to know all these people. I want to remember Phil through his friends, the people he loved. One thing that I truly admire about him, was his ability to love everyone. He never judged. He had friends from all walks of life, and he just didn't judge them. He had redneck friends, black friends, poor friends, rich friends, old friends, young friends, everyone. And everyone who knows him, knows what a good person he was. I want my children to know that. I want them to love like he did.