He died five months ago. This morning I lit a yellow candle, played Roy Orbison (one of his favorites), and thought about him. How happy his mother must have been when he was born! His was not an easy childhood. His parents divorced when he was two and his mother died when he was five. Being raised by his grandparents and great-grandparents was no picnic. But he grew into a loving man and was a pretty good dad to me.
Today I tried talking to him for the first time since his death. That doesn’t come naturally to me for some reason (even though I regularly talk to friends who have gone before). Mostly I just thank God for him, for his long life, and for all he gave me.
This is my first big, long grief journey. Here is what I’ve learned so far: