Safety Net

It is the little things. 

Things like, the email from the family accountant verifying that I am the person who is now in charge of paying the annual bill (yes, I am). And the ten different checks which I had to carefully endorse with "Estate of [Daddy's name], by [My Name], independent administrator" before depositing them into the newly-opened bank account. The Wordle that I cannot bring myself to do any more.  

Small details, here and there, reminding me that Daddy is not here. That I am valiantly trying to fill his shoes in certain ways, as best I can. It is hard. 

I have done my best as a grown-up to be a self-sufficient, independent adult, and honestly I do a pretty good job overall.  It was always nice, though, when Daddy would take the time to check in and make sure that I was really getting what I needed, literally and emotionally. Do you need anything? He would ask at the end of every phone call.  And every now and then, he would double-check: How are you doing, really? 

I miss that.

Daddy was the back-up parachute. The safety net. The one I could count on to be there. I knew that if I were in trouble, or needed words of advice or consolation, he would be there. Even if I never needed anything -- the knowledge that he was there, just in case, was enough.

He is gone, and now here I am, way up high on the flying trapeze without a safety net.

It's a whole new feeling. Even though I'm used to the acrobatics of everyday life, the fact that he is not there to catch me if I fall any more is a cold truth. 

I miss you, Daddy.