It has been 3 years since my dad died.

Some days the weight of missing him feels likes it is crushing my heart and I can barely breathe.

Some days I can't pass a picture of him without tearing up as I touch the cold glass that covers his face.

Some days as I drive past Dairy Queen I see a vivid picture of him in my mind, buying an ice cream cone and tossing it into the back of the truck for his dog, Atticus.

Some days I laugh and some days not as I watch my kids, "take off their thumbs", a trick he did for them hundreds of times.

Some days I see or hear something funny and I know he would be throwing his head back and laughing his loud, distinctive laugh, which I miss every day.

Some days as I watch my grandkids, I can remember watching my kids do the same things, with him by my side.

Some days when I'm working on a project, my mind travels back to a time, when we would work on so many things together, having fun, no matter what we were doing.

Some days, as I struggle with my own children, I wonder how he ever put up with me.

Every day - I miss him.

Every single day.