Life keeps going.

This is a personal one, guys. Personal. But let me preface it also by saying that there are no tears and today is not "one of those days". It has been a gorgeous weekend, a little cold and rainy, which brings out lots of green. This Sunday had been long and sweet, and I ran into a picture of my dad, which had led me to these thoughts. There. Proceed now with caution. (I kid, I kid.)

I can't believe it's almost June. And I can't believe life has gone on, and on, and on. And it will continue to tonight, tomorrow, and the next day. And I'm happy! That's the first of many important life lessons that I have learned. 

Okay. Backtrack.

I'm a thirteen-year-old girl, still wearing tights and a leo a few days a week for ballet, church youth group is still the highlight of my week, church is a social gathering, and I am surrounded by my family. Mom and Dad are Mom and Dad, my big brother is the coolest thing since sliced bread, I fight with my big sister constantly, and those other little kids are just other little kids. We're a cool family who's got it all together, just plowing through a normal life. Yeah. I thought. And then June happened and Mom and Dad came out to tell me Dad had cancer while I was roller-blading around the driveway. Perfect. 

Two years later I'm at girls camp and I get the call. Two hours later, I'm home, and walking into a house full of people, but minus a spirit. 

Okay. Fast forward. It's 2012 again. Seven years after life came knocking on the door.

I can't believe all these years have passed and how much things have changed! Sometimes I really have a hard time remembering what life used to be, what I grew up with. But then something always comes along and makes me remember, though, and usually it's something really small and seemingly insignificant. Those are the down days (we all have them every once in a while, right?). People told me that it was just going to take time, and five years later I swear I need to remind myself of that. Nobody could ever prepare me, or anyone in my family, for the days and years that were to come. Pardon my language, but life is a bitch sometimes.

(For the record, I don't swear often, but there are only so many words that come close to expressing how I feel.)

Let's just say that life would be a lot different right now if things hand't spiraled out of control. But here we are (all of us - meaning my family), and we're likely all the better for the rocky times. They make a person stronger in some ways, even though you have to first be broken down completely first. Which we have all been. A few times. (And I repeat, life's a bitch.)

But life goes on. And good things happen. Life is good.

I really love that I'm able to sit here and think about how I actually do love life. I say that because there have been times when happiness just seemed a little hopeless. I was sure at times that life would always be sad. (Losing a dad is hard, okay?) But now just looking at the stars or roasting marshmallows around a campfire remind me of how wonderful time and life is, and how lucky I am. And part of that is being with the people I care about. And, I believe, I love them all the more for having lost somebody so dear to me. If I have been successful in one area in my life, it's in that one. I promised I would make sure that those people in my life always knew how much I love them, because I let Dad slip out of this earthly life without reminding him of that. So I love. And I love loving. And I'm grateful. I'm grateful for the days. 

I do still miss my dad through it all, though, and I absolutely cannot wait to see him again on the other side of the veil. Families are forever, and that I know. I cling to that. And it's great. But it doesn't really make up for not being able to talk to him about my future, or the boys that break my heart (or the boys who's heart I break!), or how I wish he could watch me dance at every single one of my performances (or how I've cried through performances because of him). A dad is a dad is a dad. They make the world a bigger and better place. They're priceless, I know that now. 

Life is priceless (even though it still has that bitchy thing going for it every once in a while). I thank Heavenly Father for the good days and the bad days alike (I don't usually tell Him I think life's a b-word, though). Life is to celebrate and cherish. Those are the other lessons I've learned. 

There have been a lot of lessons I've learned, actually. Like now, I never delete my Mom's voice messages that she leaves me, and I listen to them all at least a few times, because I never want to forget what her voice sounds like. I've learned to like hugging my family (weird, I know, but I used to hate it). I've learned to tell my family and friends that I love them. I've learned that I really do what a family forever of my own, no matter what package it comes in. I've learned that reading the scriptures and taking the sacrament do make a difference, and I do feel happier, even though it's a hard thing to explain. I've learned that I have actually learned a lot, and I am actually a better person. I've learned that I can do just about anything I put my heart and head to. But it's been hard. Good, but hard. I mean, I'm still surprised when I realize how hard it still is sometimes. I still want to cry when people talk about their dads. I still get outrageously jealous and sad when my friends talk on the phone with their dad. Don't get me started on those stupid father-daughter dances at weddings (sobs, guys. sobs.). BUT, I am happy, and I am awfully grateful for the time I did have with my dad. Thus "hard but good".

So I guess this is about life. Life and dads. Because both are great. Both teach a person a lot. Both are priceless and can take your breath away. Both are better with the other. To you person out there, whoever you are: go wrap your arms around your dad, or call him up, and just love him. 

- - - 

So thank you for not leaving this life without making sure I knew I was loved, Dad. Thank you for sharing the lessons you learned, too. You are and will always be more than just a memory. Through good and bad, thick and thin, I love you. 

And thank you, Longhurst, for being a coach, a mentor, and a friend. You're an incredible father to those wonderful girls of yours, and an amazing husband for your wife (who is likewise amazing, but that's worth another post entirely). Thanks for everything, especially your example. You're family, dude.

Three cheers for dads! =)