We started soccer this weekend. Tonight was Camryn's second practice. As we were driving there tonight all the memories came flooding back from last year. Joe went to every practice and game with us. We would ride in his truck and when we got there he would put Camryn on the edge of his tool box in the bed of his truck and put her shin guards and cleats on. He would push them both in the wagon or I would push Dylan and Camryn would ride on his shoulders. He helped coach her team. After just about every game we would go driving around looking for a house or property. He loved every minute of it. It was something he could finally do with Camryn that they both really enjoyed.
I hate that he's not here to see how much better she's gotten in the past year. Or how she knew exactly what to do. And how she would kick the ball into the goal. I hate that he's wasn't here to roll his eyes when at Saturday's practice it was her turn to kick the ball and she just stopped....and told the coach so seriously that it felt like the desert out there and that she wished it was snowing. Or that he can't be here to see her and Dylan climb the dirt "mountain" (as they call it) that is as high as our roof, and come running down the other side.
Its been almost a year since he died. So the memories from this time last year are the ones freshest in my mind. Out of all the holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, etc that I've had to face, none of them compare to facing the next two months of memories.
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