This is for the gamers

<img src="http://x59.xanga.com/8f7d1af70473291039157/w63235763.jpg" alt="xboxchocosmall" style="width:425px" />

Doesn't that look delicious?

I know I said this was closed but I have to write.

In Loving Memory of

Eugene Walter Obermier Jr.

December 25, 1955

October1, 2004

May the angels lead you into Paradise, may the Martyrs receive you at your coming, and take you to Jerusalem the holy city. May the choirs of Angels receive you, and may you with the once poor Lazarus have have rest everlasting. May the Souls of all the faithful departed , through the mercy of God, rest in peace.

That's what the little cards that they handed out at my daddy's funeral said. Its been almost a year and I miss him so much. Why did he have to be so nice and then leave me? We needed him. I didn't care that he was transgendered. I loved him SO much and just wanted him to be my father. He'll never get to walk me or Elizabeth down the aisle and give us away. He'll never get teach Elizabeth the two step, or take her out to play pool. We're missing out on SO much without him. Why? Why couldn't he just stay a while longer? Why couldn't he just ONCE tell me he was proud of me? I'm sorry if this is filled with typos, I can't see through the tears. I'm angry and hurt and just all kinds of feelings. There are so many unanswered questions. They will never go away. I never got to tell him I forgave him for the years of abuse before hand. He wasn't that bad of a man, just had some problems. Jon misses him too, he just doesn't know how to show it. I just walk around the house bawling while folding laundry or putting in a new CD or knitting. I just feel like it was too soon. We had just got him back, began repairing hurt hearts and feelings. Then he died. I didn't even get to tell him good bye. Why? Why is the world like this? Is it really worth it all? I'm not talking suicide here. Just mourning. Why is there so much hurt? I needed him. He should've lived a lot, lot longer. Forty Eight is TOO young to die. He would've been fifty his next birthday (Christmas). God. This isn't fair. His grandchildren won't ever know who he was. He had a wonderful since of humor and could dance better than anyone I knew. He could beat nearly anyone at pool and loved fishing. I just want to stop hurting. How long does it take to heal? Why does this day have to mean the opening of old wounds, not nearly healed enough. Alrightie...that's enough. I'm sorry.