Okay, so maybe that title is a bit dramatical, but, it seems to be the case. I promise not to dwell on my grief over losing my dad too much, but I do miss him more than I can even express. I know that it's going to be a long process, and I know that we have been so fortunate and lucky in so many many aspects of this whole situation. Actually, I promise nothing. This sucks.
At any rate, another teacher at school who has become a friend lost her dad the day that my dad went into the hospital--March 18. His passing was quite sudden, although he had been plagued with health issues for a while. My heart broke for my friend, her mom, and her family while we were desperately trying to write another ending for our story. Obviously, these pages had been written long before, and our journey has taken this path. When I finally came back to school, this teacher friend came down to my room and we were both able to talk about what we were both going through with someone who truly knew how the other's heart was aching. At that moment. While I am so sorry that my friend is going through this at the same time that I am, it has provided a certain amount of comfort to know that there is someone that I can chat with who has the same questions, concerns, fears, and sadness that I have. I don't even feel the least bit bad about crying in front of her, and that's not something that I let many people see. So, in this respect, my misery cherishes her company, and I'm chalking her up on my list of fortunate occurrences during this crappy situation.
On another note, I've found myself forcing myself to remember things about Dad. I think it's kind of funny that it's taken me until now to realize some of these things. Like, he always called me "sweetie." Always. I never quite realized this until I was laying in bed and making myself remember his voice. I was thinking about how he always greeted me on the phone with a chipper, "Hi, sweetie." And the last thing that he was able to say to me was, "I love you. You're doing a great job with that little boy." I know that doesn't have much to do with anything, but I don't want to forget.