Fifteen Christmases without baking cookies, unwrapping gifts with, or watching his unending silliness. Grief and pain slowly began to dig a hole for the safe keeping of memories of those years. Those memories would soon be buried deep beneath layers of hurt and tears and with great attempt shoved down too far to feel or see. I wasn't allowed to miss him or to cry or to speak of him at all. Through my silence I dreamed of him and held dear with desperation and hope to the memories I had of spending weekends with him. I would often laugh out loud when I would think of him sitting reading his paper when I would come up behind and twap it. He would act surprised every single time and I would laugh so hard. Together we would catch salamanders beneath the rocks  in front of the house while my step mom would be cooking in the kitchen and all was right with the world. This was the normal I wanted to never let go of.
Aspen trees filled the the sky as I looked up while playing in the yard. Their leaves glistening and whispering softly unspoken words to my heart. I knew when I saw them I was home, I knew I had him where no one could ever take him away, my heart held my daddy tightly secured. Still to this day and I can only assume, forever, I will shed a tear of joy and take great comfort in the beauty of the Aspen trees. Those trees and their leaves helped me to never dig too deep or bury it all I guess.
Fifteen years passed, I was now married and pregnant and that hole I dug so many years earlier was opening. My heart relentlessly demanding action I called my father. His voice was the same, even the way he said my name hadn't changed one bit and my fear melted at the sound of him saying "Jessica".
My father is still the silliest man on earth, loves his grandkids with all of his heart, is the hardest working man ever to walk the planet, and one handsome guy!
My life is blessed beyond measure knowing he is no longer a memory.