It’s the second anniversary of my father’s passing today. He died suddenly from heart complications after he woke up not feeling well.
I can’t believe it’s been two years.
And I wish he could see the Blue Cottage we just bought and moved into. My dad was an architect and I’m sad that he never got to see it. He would’ve been so proud.
I still feel his presence, and the fact that the few moving boxes I bought had his name on it was like a sign from heaven that he’s watching over us.
I know he is, which makes not having him here anymore a tiny bit easier.