It's been a decade since my dad had a random heart attack and died at age thirty-eight, and there's still not a day that goes by that I don't think of him. I know my brothers and my mom miss him dearly, too. Every March is a stab to the heart. I don't think I'll ever be able to stop missing him, and I've come to terms with that. His death forced me to grow up rather quickly, and I'll keep all the lessons I've learned since then close to my heart.
It never gets easier.
"Time heals all wounds" is pretty much bullshit when it comes to death. The wound never closes; some days it hurts less, but it never fully stops hurting. Every birthday, graduation, prom, etc. is just another reminder he isn't here to celebrate.
Say "I love you" as much as possible.
I know a common thought with people who have lost a loved one is "If only I could tell them I love them one last time". This is true. I would do anything to be able to look my dad in the eyes and tell him how he was my world, and how much I love him. I know deep down that wherever his soul is, he knows that I do, but it would mean so much more if I could say it face to face.
Never take anything for granted.
...and another reason to say "I love you" more is because you never know when it'll be someone's last day. My dad wasn't the healthiest man, but there was absolutely no warning of what was about to happen. His heart just stopped and he died. Having two parents is a norm we just expect as kids, and we never really expect to live without that norm until we are much older. I took that for granted. Living outside the norm now, it sucks.
No one ever really gets it.
Even others who have lost their dad or mom don't ever exactly get it; everybody has their own story of loss, and no two are exactly the same. It helps to have these tragic similarities with people, but for the most part, they understand - but at the end of the day, I lost MY dad, and only I know how that feels.
Life is precious, no matter how long or short it is.
For so long, I resented that my dad's life ended so quickly, but I realized he lived a very full life. He was surrounded by a loving family - siblings, his mother, us. Of course, I'll never know his internal feelings, but I like to picture him as a man who lived a full, happy life. Obviously, I'm going to wish he had more time, or rather, I had more time with him, but I learned to stop thinking of it as "life cut short". He had a wonderful life that lasted a thirty-eight years.
Be thankful.
Everyday I thank my lucky stars for my mom's, brothers', friend's, and my own health. Not everybody gets a tomorrow. And every morning when I wake up, I'm thankful I get to spend another day on this beautiful tragedy of a world. And I'm thankful for the people I still have with me.
And most of all...
Love is forever.
Death cannot take away the love I have for my dad. It cannot take away my memories with him. Love trumps all, even something as cruel as death. And maybe in this way, he isn't dead. Because he's alive in my heart.
"There is no death, only a change of worlds." - Chief Seattle
