Yesterday, my cousin called me and sang happy birthday to me on my voicemail. For some reason, she reminded me so much of my Dad and the kind of messages he used to leave me that it made me cry. It’s my first birthday without him. These moments hit me from time to time. I know it’s part of the process of grieving, but they are still hard. I’m grateful for them, in a way. It reminds me of how much I was loved…and how much I loved in return. Miss you, Dad.