What is life now that he is gone; now with this thing called Grief dogging my steps all the day long? I have been told I had an especially close relationship with my Father--closer than most; and I think that is true. I was his Baby; and he and I were two peas in a pod. Many a time he just needed a sympathetic ear to listen, someone who understood his pain, and I was blessed to be that to him. I will never forget it. There were times where we would just sit and talk, even all day; not a holiday or anything--just a Tuesday. I wish everyone had the relationship I had with my Father.

So what is life now? What is this "new normal" of which counselors speak? For me, now, it is Survival. My Father was larger than life; something about him seemed larger than death, too. Like he was too big to die; that there was ne'er a stone from which he could not pull the sword. I guess little girls think that of their fathers when they are growing up. I sure did. But he did die; and when he did I was blindsided. Rocked to my foundation. Shattered. I am coming back; but the piecing back together is slow, and the new normal sometimes is just staying out of bed.

I love my Father; and it gives me much comfort to come here and write.