Today is my dad's birthday. He would've been 55. Young. I know this day is especially difficult for my nana and papa. Losing a parent is horrific . . . losing a child must be unbearable.
When I found out my dad had been killed, after the vomiting had subsided and the denial gave way to numb acceptance, I remember helplessly thinking, "what am I going to do without him?" Even though I was an adult, the black-hole desperation and fear of abandonment was overwhelming. In the past 6 years, it hasn't gone away, but it has lessened. And for that I am grateful. The cliche, "Time heals all things", is a cliche for a reason.