8 years since Dad died

It was hard for me again on Oct. 10. It has been 8 years since my daddy died. Tonight Karson asked if it has gotten easier. Yes, it has. But the pain only takes longer breaks from visiting. I asked Scott once when I would get over the death and he replied "When you are with him again". Time is a healer. I use to hate that saying and think it was a lie but for me it is true and Just the fact that I can admit it is easier I feel is a huge step. Death is especially hard for me to deal with. Not that anyone loves death. I had lots of death in my life from a early age. I have friends in their 30s that have not been to a funeral. How would that be? I have friend that have all 4 grandparents alive and both parents. If I did not have the gospel of Jesus Christ death would be unbearable. The only way to remove the sting of death is to remove the love form life. No love in life makes for a very sad existence. SO I love deeply and when death comes even though it is temporary it hurts. For many years I did not even seek comfort I just relished the pain and held it so tight. My little brother finally convinced me to get to the Temple a few months after my dads death and it was absolutely a confirmation of life after death and the fact that our loved ones are still very much involved with loving and caring for us. I guess my dad was just so human, such huge personality that it makes it seem very lonely without him. Anthony and I often comment to each other that once he died it was as if we lost 100 people at once. He had a huge presence in Scott's and my life. He had more confidence than anyone I know and he did many secret acts of charity, which we found out about after his death. He worked hard and told me not to burn my bridges. I was such a pill in my teen years and wasted so many years fighting with him and causing him grief. I apologized many times and he always would give me a huge hug and say you sure cut your nose off despite your face but I love you. He loved babies and held me when I would cry about not being able to have a child of my own. He would cut out articles about adoption and give them to Scott and I to encourage us. He loved babies. During my cleaning this week of my scrapbook supplies I found a note he wrote to me in 1985. Sometimes Scott and I will just start to cry about missing him and then we tell our favorite stories and start to laugh. He was so excited to see his mom and dad again. Now it is Aunt Sue who says she can't wait to be with them again. She told me really sweet stories of their childhood today, she LOVED her little brother. I enjoy having her live with us, it makes me feel close to my family that is gone. I may even be ready to scrapbook the photos of his funeral. 8 years closer to seeing him again sounds nicer than 8 years since I held his hand or heard him laugh or wiped away one of his wet scratchy mustache kisses. I miss you Dad.