It’s been eight years now. You would think that I could heal.But as the time rolls on the pain and grief of loss seem to linger more and more.
I was 17 when he died..2 months to my 18th birthday.And the man whom I idolized just had the audacity to never wake up one morning.We dwell so much on death that you would think it would have been easier to accept the loss of this warm and wonderful man. But somehow maybe not so unexpectedly I was not able to mourn.So here I sit almost nine years later just begining the mouning process for the father I lost….
the one man who I will always love…
Gypsy