Where does it hurt

Every Saturday night I watched Roy Rogers on TV, back when everything was black and white and easy to see. But now everything has changed...except my memory, of my daddy’s voice when I’d fall and skin my knee...Tell me where does it hurt? Where is the pain? You know if I could I’d make it go away. It’s not the end of the world, not heaven on earth. Did I make it better? Where does it hurt?

~Warren Brothers, Where Does It Hurt

Ok, so maybe it was more like Hee Haw, and in color, but in any case, I was right there with my daddy watching it every Saturday night as a child. And yes, everything has DEFINITELY changed. And what I wouldn't give to hear my dad's voice again. And my mom's. I can hear my dad's from time to time when I play those old home videos of him, but I'll never have that luxury with my mom. It's been almost 12 years since she died, and it sure feels it. Feels like longer, actually. Hell, feels like she never existed. But obviously she did. I see her in the mirror every morning. I see her when I look at my sister, and my nieces, and my own daughter. She surely must've been here. And as much as I still see her in every face every day, she's still here. The same goes for my dad...

How could you be so far away, when you're still here? When I need you you're not hard to find. You're still here...I can see you in my baby's eyes, and I laugh and cry. You're still here. I had a dream last night that you came to me on silver wings and I flew away with you on a painted sky. And I woke up wondering what was real...Is what you see and touch, or what you feel? 'Cause you're still here. Oh you're everywhere we've ever been. You're still here. I heard you in a strangers laugh and I hung around to hear him laugh again...just once again.

~Faith Hill, You're Still Here