Let's talk about the pink elephant in the room, shall we? Because that pesky pink elephant is the true cause of the the horrifically obvious halt to my blogging. I don't suppose I need to really address this to the few people that might still faithfully check my blog in hopes of seeing something new and exciting. But truth be told, this blog isn't for them as much as it is for me and my kids in the future. I may have a few Suzy Homemaker qualities from time to time, but let's face the facts. 1. I don't scrapbook. I'm sure it would be fun, but seriously? If you have the time to scrapbook, then you must have older, more self-entertained/self-sufficient children than I. 2. I don't keep up with baby books. I have three of them. Alex's is filled with the essentials. Abby's is less so. Evie? Well...Evie is just lucky I wrote her name on it. 3. I don't have photo albums. You remember those, right? Those pretty three-ring books filled to the brim with family vacation photos. They were popular back when the word "digital" referred to a new-fangled fancy alarm clock from the store in the mall. Digital cameras are great, but I don't have a million dollars to print the bazillion photos that they store. So basically, this blog is meant to be my scrapbook/photo album/baby book.

So. Pink elephant. My dad passed away. It's been three months and, believe you me, it's been horrible. The past three months have been riddled with painful moments that stab at my heart and make it start to bleed all over again. These holidays have been hell. We had smiles. Sure. But for me, many of those smiles were forced. Losing a loved one sucks. It sucks major giant bags of dog poo. And what makes it worse is dealing with the loss through the eyes of those around you on top of the loss you already feel yourself. My worst pain comes when I deal with the pain of my mom and my children. But I've been strong for them. Being ever so careful to never shed a tear in front of them for fear of making their pain worse. I know, I know. Crying is good for them to see. But honestly, they saw enough in the first month. But don't you worry your pretty little heads about it. I find my time to cry. Whether it's driving to the store alone or silently sobbing into the dark while holding Evie's hand as she falls asleep in her crib, I do let it out. But I plaster on that smile and keep on trucking. I know that the pain will be managed one day and that I won't feel like shards of salty glass are slowly shoving their way into my wounded heart. But until then, I'm just taking one step at a time.

So why has the pink elephant stopped me from blogging? Simple. When I sit down to tap away on the keyboard and try to weave a fun, witty, happy little post, every picture or story somehow loops back around to missing my dad. As I sit there and try to type about happy rainbows and unicorns and teddy bears and la la la...

...I fail.

A heavy sigh and a tear or two later, I simply throw in the towel and resort to doing something mindless. Like playing Candy Crush or watching random tv shows. I fear too much that what I write will be sad and mopey and all around depressing. But here's the deal: That's where I am right now. This blog is a scrapbook of our lives and my Dad was a huge part of that. I can't even turn around in my own home without seeing something that reminds me of him. Presents he's given my kids. Things he fixed to help me out. Places he sat. Heck, even my cats remind me of him. Everything is there to remind me of my loss. Remind me of what I'll never have again. Remind me of what my children long for and will never receive again. Our arms and hearts ache for my dad...for Grandpa. So basically, I've had to face the fact that sometimes the unicorns and rainbows need to go jump off a tall bridge and back off for a minute so I can soak in my reality.

So many people just look at your grief three months later and just scratch their heads. To them I say: Scratch away! If you haven't dealt with this, good for you. But sorry. You just won't understand. And that's okay. I discovered many things after losing Dad, but four of them stand out the most. 1. I never knew how much like him I was until it was too late to tell him. That hurts. But it is also awesome. 2. I never knew how much I could miss him and how much I loved him until he was gone. That hurts more. 3. No one defined World's Best Grandpa like my Dad. He was Alex's buddy and Abby's first "I love you". And that has made me realize that dealing with my children's grief is far and away one of the most horrible things I've had to deal with. But what a legacy he was and will always be to them! That hurts too.  And finally, 4. Dad was awesome. He was crazy at times and goofier than Goofy himself and could drive you batty with the things he said or did. But I will miss him and his batty, goofy, crazy way of living. Because without those traits? He wouldn't have been Dad. So I've learned to love those you have for who they are. Tell them, show them, hug them...love them.

My mom has made a new year's resolution to try hard to survive better without Dad - without her soul mate. She is off to a strong start by starting to cook her own meals again. If you knew my mom, you'd know the significance of that. I figure, if she can make an effort, then so shall I. My resolution/goal is to start writing again. Not just on here, but also on the sequel to my book. But for now, my fingers are frozen as we have no heater on the coldest day in over a decade. So I shall leave you with the hope that, in essence, I am back. The pink elephant has been exposed in all his awkward nakedness and I no longer need to dance around him with a blind eye. Some days, my sadness will show. And you know what?

I'm okay with that.

Have a seat Mr. Pink Elephant. You're welcome here anytime.