48 hours ago I was tired, overworked, stressed. Today I’m utterly devastated.
My father is gone. Died. Passed on.
He’s not going to answer the phone, or type a misspelled email with two fingers, or tell me he loves me.
I know they say time heals all wounds, but I don’t see how. I can’t fathom a world where I get older, where time marches on, and he’s not in it.
And yet the clock struck midnight, and we–the living–began a new day. A day he will never see.
He was a good man. A great man.
He was my best friend.
He was my daddy. Is my daddy.
But he’s gone.