6 years. That's how long it's been. 6 years since The Accident, The Day That Changed My Life. Yes, it requires caps.

Not a day goes by that I don't think about That Day. However, in the past 6 years, it's gotten easier to push it out of my head and focus on the man I lost. Why dwell on the terrible way his life ended when I can celebrate how he lived? Lately, Baby Girl has been asking more and more about her father. She's also displaying lots of his idiosyncrasies. It takes my breath away how like him she is sometimes. The worst is when she asks when he's coming back. I gently explain to her that he isn't and she carries on with her day. I wish more than anything that she had her father.

However, it's something I have to live with. Talking to her about him will always be emotional. I live every day knowing how easily, how quickly we can lose it all. It's a small price to pay for having had him in my life.

I miss you, Pablo. You were my best friend.

5 days into 2011 and things seem to be going swimmingly. Or so it would seem. With a 6th anniversary rapidly approaching, I've found myself in tears every so often. I'm grateful it usually happens when I'm alone in the car, as I like to keep my grief to myself.

For some reason, every January I replay the weeks leading up to the Accident. I remember the birthday cake for my birthday on Jan. 1st. I remember flying home from DR on Jan. 2nd. I remember the phone call from him on Jan. 4th, calling to wish me a happy birthday. I remember going to the airport to pick him up on Jan. 8th. This will happen all month long until Jan. 25th.

People may think it's been long enough and life has gone back to normal. There will never be a normal after that. In the first few bleak days, I survived. In the following couple of years, I merely existed. I breathed, ate, slept, etc., just because I had to. I'm absolutely happy now. But there will always be part of me that grieves the man I lost that day, over the dreams I had, over the little girl who will never meet her dad (and the man who will never meet his daughter).

I'm glad the good days far outnumber the bad. I've grown to accept the bad as proof of how much he meant to me, how much he meant to all of us.