It's starting to sink in.

I've kept myself very busy all day long, and I accomplished a lot. Thankfully, the one air conditioner only blew the breaker once, and the other one only 4 times. Can you tell which air conditioner is on the west side of the house? Thankfully, it was about 15 degrees cooler today than it was yesterday. The house was actually comfortable today instead of just bearable. Tomorrow will be a different story, as it will be hot again, but having a little break from the heat helped.

I thought I was doing fine all day. I've done really well thinking happy thoughts and preparing for some upcoming adventures with the family, but as I sit here, things are starting to sink in. I went from coping well to not so much.

The most important man in my life before my husband died 3 years ago today. Daddy died a short 5 weeks after he was diagnosed with lung cancer. He was in excruciating pain and his body was literally a shell of his former self. He had to have lost at least 75 pounds in about 3 months. It was so hard to watch.

Lung cancer is such an insidious disease. It's almost always a death sentence, because it is so small it's rarely detected early. It typically has 6 to 12 years to grow and spread before it's ever diagnosed. I remember being absolutely stunned when I researched it a little bit the night I heard the news. I sobbed when I read that the average survival rate without treatment was only 3 to 6 months. With treatment, it was only marginally better. As in only weeks to months better. It accounts for the most deaths amongst all cancers. And it's devastating.

All day today, I've tried to put my feelings aside and busy myself. I've done my best to try to put the pain of losing Daddy off to the side. To only think of the good things.

That he was lucid when he said goodbye, and that he knew every single one of us.

That his death was as beautiful as a death could be.

That Daddy was a one in a trillion father.

That he loved my mom and us kids with a passion few are blessed to know.

His smile.

His eyes.

His laugh.

His hugs.

His love.

I miss you, Dad.