Reaching for Eudaimonia

Dear Dad, Today I turned 19. It was the first time in 10 years that you weren't there for my birthday. Remember when we used to always pick a restaurant to go to that no one in the family had heard of so they were forced to try something new? I remember how you used to laugh so secretly. I thought it was such a diabolical plan. Today feels weird without you here. My favorite part about my birthday became sharing it with you when I was 8 years old. I would always memorize what day yours would be on before mine because I knew that whatever week of the day yours fell on, mine would be exactly one week later. One thing I missed when I woke up today was one of your signature cat birthday cards. I loved how year after year you would go and find the craziest looking cat card and write something quite clever on the inside. I always looked forward to your quips and you always looked forward to my reaction (which was usually faked annoyance). Secretly we both loved it. So now

I know what it feels like to fly. It feels like being held by your arms and being swung around in circles as we are both getting dizzy and giggling like crazy. It feels like I'm six years old again in the backyard at Grandma's house. Caleb is playing baseball outside with our cousins John, Angel and the twins, Tim and James. My hair is bleached by the sun a bright yellow blonde in messy pigtails and my skin is all tanned. Our fort that we built out of the cardboard boxes that the new couches came in is set up with a sign that says "Home Sweet Home, Wecome" instead of "Home Sweet Home, Welcome." "Again, Howie, again!" I laugh and scream with my arms stretched out towards you. You smile back and grab my arms to swing me in circles more and before I know it my legs are off the ground and I'm flying again. I can tell you love Momma and she loves you back. You are growing on me and I'm growing on you too. I can tell you make Momm

These last four years have been just awful for my personal life. I have felt loss after loss, picking myself up slowly just to be hit again. I've felt each sharp stab and ache from the tearing and healing of my heart. With every new betrayal or loss I've felt like I've been auctioning off my parts.  "You want my heart?"  Take it, it's a wreck anyway.  "Do I hear an offer for my lungs?" That's fine, you can have them. I already feel like I'm drowning by making you comfortable with your ideas about love.  "Any bidders for my arms and legs?"  Take them if you must. I've grown used to comforting myself in silence and remaining in one place.  *** The year after Howard died we saw who our true friends were. Some people felt very uncomfortable around us. We could feel it even though they never said a word. It's almost incredible how dull you feel after loss but how sometimes you have this hei

One of my earliest memories of Howard was when I was around 5 or 6 when he was dating Mom. I was waiting up for her to come home, but I was really excited to see him too. I had on one of those pink nightgowns with one of the Disney princesses on the front. My hair was a chaotic mess of curls and tangles, partially because I hated to brush it and partially because Mom always brushed it for me before I went to bed.  Grandma had the fan whirling around in the kitchen at a medium speed, occasionally clicking when it rocked because a screw was loose somewhere.  I sat in Grandma's chair at the table, leaning back and watching out the window for headlights. My eyes felt itchy and dry and all I wanted to do was shut them for just a moment. I knew I couldn't though. I had to wait for Mom to get home.  I looked around the room, noticing the pictures of fruit all over the walls. Small ones, big ones, with the addition of fake fruit stuffed into wooden baskets for decoratio