At church the sermon was about marriage, and how when we commit to someone, we do it for better or worse, sicker or poorer. The new pastor's dad died 10/31/2012 of brain cancer and he talked about how his mom cared for his dad as his dad lay dying. It was painful to hear-I wish I had a box of tissues, but it did remind me that that's the kind of love I want to give and receive. Love is an action, not a feeling, and I think about the day my dad died, he had uncontrollable diarhea and my mom helped clean him up. He was embarassed, but my mom told him that that's what you get when you have been married for 48 years.

I miss my dad. Sudays are hard because we always talked on the phone. I think back to times I ignored his phone call because I was doing something else, and it breaks my heart that I missed those times with my dad and I can never get them back. I just didn't know I wouldn't have him for longer. I regret all of the fights we had, all the times I was angry with him, and how I could be judgemental about him for how he lived his life and what kind of father I thought he was to me. He was doing the best he could....