It's almost noon, and I know that my dad has half days on Fridays, so he should be home from work any minute. I send a quick text to him, letting him know I'm bringing lunch and then pack up the turkey sandwiches I've just made.

I spent all morning sanding up the end tables and getting them ready to present to Steve. I'm hoping to find some time to drop into his shop later on today. I've already texted him to make sure he'll be there when I stop in, but I have yet to hear back. It's not until I'm pulling into my dad's driveway that my phone buzzes with a response.

I'll be at the shop until this evening, so come by anytime.

With a silent nod, I tuck the phone into the plastic bag carrying today's lunch, and head toward the front entrance. I knock while I'm opening the front door, and slip inside before anyone can welcome me in. I head to the kitchen, place the food on the counter, and then pull out two paper plates.

"Dad!" I holler, as I separate the contents of our meal onto the plates, but I don't bother to pull my eyes away from my task to see that he's standing almost right behind me.

"Yes," he says, sending a wave of shocked adrenaline through my body.

"Geez!" I laugh as I swing around, pulling my dad into a hug. "You scared me," I mutter into his shoulder before extracting myself from his embrace. I hear his familiar chuckle and I soak in the warmth it spreads through me.

It's been a while since I last heard that laugh, and I've definitely missed it.

"It's good to see you," he says, holding onto my shoulders as he takes a good look at my face. "You doing okay?"

"I should be asking you that," I tell him with a smile as I swivel around to finish preparing our meal. I pop open a bag of barbecue potato chips and dump a good portion onto each plate. Then with a satisfied smirk, I take a plate in each hand and turn back around. "Ready?"

We find a comfortable place to eat on the back patio. There's a faint breeze and I can feel the very early stages of fall. It's not so much that the air is cool, but there's a freshness to it that smells like leaves and new beginnings.

"I miss her," I suddenly say, glancing out at the cluster of trees just meters from where we're sitting.

"Me too, Kiddo."

Silence descends as we both munch on our sandwiches, but I know where our thoughts have gone. We're remembering her. We're remembering her smile, her laugh, her words of wisdom. I couldn't have asked for a better mother.

I spot a fawn just at the edge of the clearing and a moment later his mother appears. Lucky little creature still has a mom. Then again, he can't be much older than five months, so it seems a bit harsh that she would abandon him this early—though, it does happen. He'll soon be leaving his mother, ready to venture out into the world on his own. Well, let me tell ya something, Little Fawn... independence is not all that people make it out to be. It's work, and sometimes I would like nothing better than to rewind time and just soak up my childhood for eternity. But then I think about Seth and his words from the other day and I realize the truth in them. Having regrets is pointless. It doesn't improve life or make you stronger.

Regret is good for one thing, and one thing only: making you miserable.

I, for one, am tired of being miserable. So, I'm making a vow to myself right here and right now. I will mope around with my dad for a little longer today. We'll talk about mom and the joy she brought to our lives. We'll cry about opportunities that were lost. We'll laugh at memories that were made. And then we'll dry our eyes and move on.

I've got my mom in a nice, safe compartment in my heart, and that's where she'll stay. I won't go replacing her with other memories or experiences. Her words and character will be with me always and I never plan to let go of that. But, I also can't put my life on hold for her anymore. I can't sit back and watch Seth disappear because of my lack of caring. I need to start focusing on the people in my life that actually matter now. My mom doesn't need me anymore, but Seth does. My dad does. Hope does. So, putting on my big girl panties, I'm going to be the person that I need to be for them.

My dad and I spend nearly three hours chatting about life and how different things are. He admits that he's adjusting much better than he predicted he would. He's heartbroken. There's no doubt. But, he's managing to survive. He'd been given two weeks off of work and had ended up only taking one. He hated being alone and dwelling in the echoey coldness of his home. So, he dove right into his job and let it consume his thoughts. He admits now that maybe that wasn't the best idea, but at least he realizes it. Just like I realize it's not healthy to pretend my mom's still alive when I'm not here to witness the emptiness of her absence.

Seeing my parent's home now is strange. Even though it still looks the same, and smells the same, it's like there's a gaping hole in the middle of the floor. We can survive with the hole there, but we have to walk carefully around it. I'm tired of treading softly through this home. I'm tired of feeling like I can't run my fingers over old pictures, or tidy up the place. I'm tired of thinking that throwing out some of my mother's less cared-for junk would be a dishonor to her. It's just stuff. We have no ties to most of it because it wasn't special to us. But, I think it's the fact that she found it special that keeps us from throwing it out.

So, after hours of conversation, my dad and I do what should have been done weeks ago. We get to work sorting through household items. We make piles of things we want to store and what we think can be thrown away. I feel tears sting the backs of my eyes as I sort through her wardrobe. Her clothes still carry her scent and when my dad disappears in the bathroom for a moment, I find myself bringing the material to my nose and inhaling deeply. My chest is going to crack open and release another waterfall of tears, but I maintain control. With several deep breaths, I fold the dress and place it in the garbage bag.

Once we've cleared out her closet, my dad moves all the garbage bags of clothing and personal items to the garage where he plans to store them until he finds the nerve to get rid of them. I can respect his decision. Throwing it out almost feels callous and cold of us, and I'm secretly glad he can't find it in himself to do so just yet.

I glance around the house one last time before exiting the home. There are still pieces of her littered throughout, but it's tidy now and only the most precious memories remain. I feel a sense of accomplishment and renewal as I take in the scene. Smiling up at my dad, I wrap my arms around him.

"We're going to be okay," I tell him as I cling to his neck.

"Yes," he agrees. "We will."

I pull away to find him smiling sadly down at me. I go to open the front door, but a hand on my shoulder stops me. I turn to face my only parent, but he doesn't speak right away. He just watches me, his gaze perceptive and keen.

"You doing okay?" he asks after a moment. I'm about to answer, but he cuts me off. "I'm not talking about your mother," he clarifies. "I mean you and Seth. Are the two of you doing okay?"

I don't answer for a moment. The truth is, yes, we're doing better than we have in months. But, we still haven't crossed that point from housemates to lovers. We live together, we eat together, and we share a bed, but apart from that, we haven't been the best married couple on the planet.

"We need some work," I answer honestly after a few moments of thought. "We're going through a rough patch, but I think we're working it out."

My dad nods his head in understanding. Apparently, he knows the feeling. I can see sympathy on his face that tells me he's been through something similar. Maybe he and mom were just really good at hiding their issues as well.

"Every couple has moments of struggle," he tells me, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Things can get ugly, but you have to remember something..."

"What's that?"

He eyes me for a moment, his honey-brown gaze scanning my features as a small smile touches his lips.

"You have to remember that love is not a feeling." I just stare at him, waiting for him to elaborate, which he does. "If you're hoping for butterflies and flirty smiles every day, then I'm afraid you'll be rather disappointed. Those things are the beginning stages of love, but once the giggles and giddy excitement of it pass you're faced with a new, and much deeper sense of love. It becomes about selflessness. You choose to love the person you're with. You create memories and you seek adventure, but you have to do it together."

I glance down at my feet, realizing that I haven't been good about choosing to love Seth at all. I've made it about the feelings. I was waiting for my feelings to match my thoughts, and they seemed to be fighting each other every step of the way.

"It takes work," my dad goes on to say. "You can't expect to just sit back and hope that miracles happen in your relationship. You have to want it bad enough to go get it." He pauses for a moment, and then eyes me closely, "Do you want that?"

I don't even need to think of my response before it's flowing from my lips. "Yes. Definitely yes."

"Good." My dad nods with a proud smile. "Then go after that boy and make him feel loved."

I laugh softly around a smile as I bend to slip on my shoes. Just as I'm turning to exit the home, I turn back around.

"By the way," I begin saying around a grin, "I don't think we've lost the butterflies and giggling just yet."

My dad chuckles as he slings an arm around my shoulders. He squeezes me to his side, and I bask in the warmth of his body next to mine. The warmth that is proof of the blood flowing through his veins... the life that still pumps within him. Though I hate to admit that my relationship was always stronger with my mom, I'm grateful for this opportunity to strengthen what I have with my dad.

"Ah, yes," he says, pulling my thoughts back to my earlier comment.

I peer up at him, waiting for him to continue because I can tell he has more to say. He matches my gaze with his own and then leans down to plant a whisper of a kiss against the tip of my nose. It's a gesture that somehow signifies his pride in me. Whether my marriage survives or not, his love for me will not crumble. Even through the struggle, he's proud of me for pushing through and fighting to make it work.

"Sounds to me like you two are some of the lucky ones," he says after a moment. "Don't give up on that." He glances down and to the side at me, winking subtly. "Many times, those feelings of being newly in love will still fade, but you'll find them presenting themselves every now and then... even when you grow old and wrinkly like me. It's those moments that make loving someone so much more worth it."

I take hold of my father's words, eager to put them into practice. I have no intention of letting go of what Seth and I have. In fact, I'm going to do everything in my power to cling to that man as if he's my life support.

Which is why it's time to put my love into action and prove to him just how much he really means to me.