At grief camp training, they told me that the word loss implies that there is something to be found. The word loss confuses children and gives them a false hope that their person is coming back. At twelve years old, I was experiencing loss. Some days I would sit in the living room and wait. Wait for the day that my dad would walk through the door like he always did, ready to embrace me. I imagined one day I would come home from school and his car would be in the driveway. I would call his cell phone number, waiting for him to pick up and instead be greeted by the cold, robotic tone of the voicemail. The thing about loss is that at first, it only feels like loss- they call this denial.

This loss was something I never could have planned for. Growing up, I had always had a vision for my life. Regardless of whether I wanted to be a veterinarian or a ballerina, I never would have thought that I would have to reserve one less place at my high school and college graduation. I never thought that one day I would be walking myself down the aisle. I envisioned he would be the one to take me driving in his old blue pickup truck. I had always thought my dad would be waiting at the front door, shotgun in hand, when I got back home from my first date. I imagined dropping my future children off at grandma and grandpa’s and coming back to them sitting on his lap. I just never thought that I would lose someone so special so soon.

That is the thing about loss, you never plan for it. No one wants to lose their socks, keys or their child at the grocery store. No one wants to lose a close family member or friend. The worst part about loss is that it’s actually death. It’s death of a person, but also to the future you had envisioned them in. It’s death to your normal way of life.

There is no adequate time period. At no point will you ever, “get over it.” You’ll eventually restore a sense of normalcy, but all it takes is one trigger and suddenly you feel a rush of emotions. Holidays, birthdays, and big life milestones are constantly occurring reminders that someone isn't there. In time you'll find that your heart and your plans adapt, but there is forever an empty void that someone’s life once filled.

It’s been seven and a half years and if there’s anything I’ve learned it’s that death is bittersweet. It's bitter in that there is a significant loss of life. It’s so bitter that some days you don’t want to get out of bed. It will shake you and startle you, and rattle you to your core, to the point that you contemplate the significance of your own life. In the midst of the darkness though, there is light. There is a subtle sweetness that comes with the union of a family becoming a support for each other. There is a fondness that comes with the retelling old stories and memories. There is a strength in knowing that with your own personal angel, you are never alone.

Some may find it selfish, but I find comfort in knowing that with death I gained a purpose. I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. Given the opportunity, I would bring my dad back in a heartbeat, even if only for a minute. However, I know that his passing forced me to be strong. It has influenced me to live a life that both he and I can be proud of. It has encouraged me to seek out others who have experienced similar grief and be a light to them. It has messed up every plan I’ve ever made, but I now live with a more refined sense of purpose. I hope to take my experience and passions and become a counselor for grieving children, something I never would have considered pre-death. By doing so, I am choosing to take a negative situation and make it a positive, all while keeping my dad’s generous spirit alive.

So to those who have lost, and those who will lose in the future, I'm sorry. Just know that when death happens, I pray that you take that experience for all that it is. Embrace every raw emotion. Allow yourself to feel the anger, sadness and regret. I can promise you that stifling and burying your emotions them will only inhibit you from living the life your person would want for you. I hope that one day, you find the reason why. I hope you turn your loss into something beautiful. I hope you live more fearlessly, love more passionately, and hug just a little tighter. I hope that in death you find a new life, more fulfilling than you ever could have imagined.

I hope that somewhere along the way you find inner peace your heart and soul long for. I hope you begin to rebuild. I hope that you always choose to remember the good rather than the bad and the joy amongst the sorrow.

I hope that if you ever need a shoulder, you know you always have me. May you never believe you bear your loss alone.