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On Saturday, I was completely and utterly overwhelmed by missing my Dad. I cried about it in a way that I haven’t cried in years. Just soul-deep.  Ache.

On Sunday, Coffee was sorting and packing a bunch of his stuff and came across the small container of my Dad’s ashes.

Those ashes have been missing for almost 10 years. I have looked for them endlessly – in every single possible spot. Drawers, cupboards, boxes, bins. Places that I wouldn’t have put them in a million years. Re-checked places over and over and over.  Put it out of my head and then.. one day started looking all over again. Repeat. Repeat. Ten years.

I was mostly convinced that one of the kids must have taken them – the container they’re in resembles a flask and it is unlabelled (nothing to identify who, or what, is inside). I asked them and they denied it. But both of them have a history of .. removing things.. and I couldn’t think of any other possibility.  I figured I’d never see them again. I tried to make peace with that.

And now my Dad is back. Well, you know what I mean. He’s sitting on the desk next to me right now. I have started looking for a pendant that I can put some of the ashes into and wear. His wedding ring has been too big for me for a while now – I used to wear it every day. I don’t want to have it made smaller, even though he actually had it enlarged and there is a small space that, if removed, I’m pretty sure would make it fit me again.

I am so overwhelmed by the timing of this. So grateful. SO grateful.

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