Dad's been gone 6 months
Death is a hell of a thing. The death of a parent is terrible. I can't imagine losing a child or a spouse, before that person's time. Losing my Dad at 65 when his health hadn't been good for years is bad enough. Losing a spouse in an accident or a kid to a freak accident or some disease is unfathomable to me. Even though Dad and I were only in contact by phone the last 6 years, except for three lovely visits, the bond is still strong. What can I say? It hurts - six months later - a year later I'm sure, Dad will be missed. The permanence of death is so indisputable, unlike anything else in life where you realize that there is a chance, if you wait long enough, or make the right call, or fill in an appeal, or file some document, or know the right person, that your situation will change. Not death. I remember in P1 (1st grade for Americans), we had a thick door to our classroom that was very heavy and thick. One time it was slammed and the noise was very foreboding. Something about a door being slammed always sounds quite final. Anyway, that sense of finality is definitely what death feels like. It's cruel. There are no do-overs. So Dad, you're missed. Thankfully we had 14 years of getting along really well. I wish we had more, but we don't. You're missed Dad, you made the world a nicer place, and if more were like you, the world would be completely different. Love you.