It's been a year, today.

It's been a year, today, since I last heard his laugh.

An entire year since I last got his great advice or hung out with him in the garage as he cleaned his Chevelle.

365 days since I last went out to lunch with him or we watched a football game together.

12 months since he has played with my kids on the living room floor or watched one of Carter's soccer games.

Not a day goes by that I don't think about him. What he'd be doing if he were still here with us. What he'd say when my mom turned 60 or Reid and Aubrey turned 1. How'd he react watching Carter step on to the school bus for the very first time or when I found out I was pregnant with another precious baby girl.

He has missed so much in the past year and, while it's so hard to imagine all the years he will miss, I know that he is still with us always.

I picture his smile often.

I hear his voice when I need him.

And I know that he would be proud of the things that we have done.

Missing you always, Dad.