I am doing okay. I can't believe this Sunday will be one month ago my dad died. In some regards, it seems like forever that I haven't heard his voice.

The other night I was getting McKenna's pajamas on, and she said "Papa's got his jammies on too. Papa sleeping." Then I asked her, "Where does Papa live?" She answered "in heaven." Then I pointed to her heart, and I said "Papa lives right here too. He lives in your heart." Well she pulled out her pajamas and looked down her shirt in amazement, hoping to find papa.

It's sad, every time my mom is around she asks where papa is. In some ways I am glad that she hasn't forgotten him yet, but everytime she asks, it breaks my heart. I always think how simple the life of a two year old is. They don't know about sickness or death, have any responibilities, and the worst part of their day is when thier sippy cup runs empty. It would be great to have that simplicity in life.