Day 8: The Mornings are the Hardest

Dear Daddy,

The mornings are the most difficult. I still stir around 5:30 am and wake up. I reach over and feel our daughter sleeping next to me in the bed. Gosh I miss your snores. I miss the warmth of your body. I miss the way you would feel me reach for you and instantly and you would pull me close. We always would shift around at night to either have me rest on your chest or for you to be the big spoon right behind me. I miss everything. Literally everything.

Yesterday my mom finally stepped back into the back bathroom where your last earthly moments were. She looked around the barren bathroom and tenderly asked me to explain what happened. I pointed to where you were, where you slid down, and where you laid as I did CPR on your body waiting for the paramedics to arrive. She grabbed me into a hug and suddenly said: “Reg, please stay with us. We need you more than ever!”. I was shocked to hear my mom say this because quite frankly kiddo and I have been the ones to beg him to stay with us over and over. I heard a soft whispering in my mind that was no doubt you, my love. “Of course I’ll be here” I heard.

You would never leave us. I know that. I’ve made peace with that. This experience has put so many things into perspective for me. Life is short. Really short. And we are never going to understand why God calls people home at the time that He does. Our human minds just can’t comprehend that. That’s difficult to accept, I admit. But, I know I can’t torture myself with the “Why?” either. I want to. At times it creeps into my brain as I ponder, “what if I had done… <insert activity>? Would that have made a difference?”. But I try to not let my brain go there because I know, Daddy, that you wouldn’t want me to be tortured by the “what if”.

As I sit here typing this to you the house is cold. It’s finally Fall. Our favorite season of the year, but this time the cold is fitting because I feel cold inside and out. Each morning I wake up and reach for you, only to be instantly reminded that you’re not physically here. I grab my plushie wolf that (Thank God!) you put your recorded voice into and I listen to you:

“Hi Kitten Kaboodle, this is Daddy… I love you VERY much! MWAHH!”

I call him “lobo” which is fitting since he is a wolf. I hear your voice and feel connected. I miss making morning coffee for you just how you like it. I miss getting you up and out on time for work. I miss fussing over you, making sure that you have everything you need to be comfortable. We were… are… “the dream team”, babe. We just work so well together. My heart feels so broken.

I need you, Daddy. I need you so much. T_T

Forever Us,

Kitten Kaboodle xoxoxo

P.S.: For those who wish to pay their respects to Tali/Reg, here is his official obituary. https://www.marshallspoosunsetfuneralchapel.com/obituary/Reginald-Mendoza

2 responses to “Day 8: The Mornings are the Hardest”

  1. It’s a really cute wolf plushy and the voice recording makes it invaluable. I like hand written letters too. They are in my fireproof safe. If my house were to burn down, those letters will be the first ones for me to grab. Must be hard to recount his final moments. I am sorry…

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