My father passed away one year ago today. People say it gets easier, but I’m not sure “easier” is the right word. The idea that I haven’t spoken to or seen my father in 365 days is just heartbreaking to me, and the idea that I’ll never do either of those things again just hasn’t kicked in. I miss him so much and there isn’t a day I don’t think about him, need his advice, yearn to tell him what’s going on in my life or just want to laugh with him.
When I was born, my father ran a clothing line, manufacturing mostly jeans, but also dabbling in sweaters and shirts. He passed away just before I took this position at Clandestine, and I just hope he knows how proud I am to follow in his footsteps. I hope he knows.
I’m sure he’s proud wherever he’s watching from.
