6 months later, I still don't believe he's gone.

[MatchingOddSocks]

So this isn't only about me.

My grandmother had two sons - my dad and his older brother and so with one last attempt at a girl, she had triplets. All three of them where male.

So around three months after they where born, the littlest triplet died of cot death

11 years ago, one of the remaining triplets killed himself (he was 32 I think)

And in April my father went to Hong Kong on one of his many many business trips out there and died in his hotel room - completely out the blue.

As I had moved out of the family home in January - I am currently live with the remaining triplet - my mother had to ring us up at 4:30 in the morning to tell us the news. I couldn't believe her and I hate every call in the night now.

We drove to my grandmother to tell her the news (which nearly broke her) and I was driven home by a aunt and a really good family friend who sorted all the paperwork out for us. Two weeks off as compassionate (nearly quit), then back to my apprenticeship.

His funeral was on the 27th when he had died on the 3rd - it was only a couple of days after he finally came back from Hong Kong. By then, we knew where he had died and that was about it. A friend from china managed to bring back his wedding ring for my mother. The funeral was...hideous and started too many fights - My cousin couldn't be bothered to go to the funeral because his friends had a party, my 'friend' complained he was hungry and it was boring. My grandmother didn't get everything she wanted, mother didn't have the money for it.

I was tasked with taking dad's ashes the 3 hours back home in my car when that had been done. Truely a hideous drive.

Its now October - 6 months later - and we still haven't got the death certificate. We where only told last month that he had no alcohol/drugs in his system, though the test was done in May. Because of the no-certificate thing, my mother has found it incredibly hard to get any money or anything from anyone and the Hong Kong police will not release his belonging to us, apart from the ring.

And I still don't believe it - He was often in hong kong, I kinda got used to not seeing him around. I moved out a month before he died so I'm not living in the same house, seeing his stuff around - and even when I do go back, it still doesn't hit me.

Sometimes it does gets me, but my heart always dismisses it. My family tell me I'm strong and if I fail, they will. No pressure there then - but I'm a bit like my dad, have to smile, make others smile, make jokes... But I have the same sense of humour and it gets to them sometimes. I find myself being very careful not to let them see, but now I feel like they're a couple of steps ahead of me and I have so far to go:

I dont really remember the last 6 months, only work and random little things - Grandmother complaining about mental people on her mental ward (sigh), these kind of strange things.

And if I try and remember my dad, nothing comes up.

A long winded pre-ramble for three questions: (I hope most of it makes sense)

- 6 months later I still dont believe it, is this normal?

- Will my memories return?

- And how do I help my grandma? Im not the girly-girl she wanted. She also drives me nuts, thinking that she is the one who is the most effected by it because she fell back into her depression - she's been in and out of hospitals for years. She didn't even know him - She asked me if he drank! (If you knew him, you dont ask these things. The answer is definitely yes).

Im 19 now - I'm hardly old enough to be naturally forgetting things...

Thanks to all that read and reply - this is my frist time posting anything about anything like this

[Megan Benoit]

It been five years since my father died and I'm still convinced[because he worked for WWE] that he's just on tour with them. His job kept him gone alot, and telling myself he's just on tour helps, but when I watch Raw and Smackdown, I don't see him. My heart breaks again everytime.

I never lost memories of my father. Something that I found to help was sleeping with a photo of him. It's now bent and torn, but I don't care. It's one of the few things I have left of him.

I wasn't even 15 when he died. I didn't know what to do for myself, let alone my mother. I spent two full weeks locked in my room, refusing to eat, speak, or do anything.

You have no idea how much I'm praying the police misidentified his body, that it was someone else, and my father is just....hiding somewhere.

[MatchingOddSocks]

You have no idea how much I'm praying the police misidentified his body, that it was someone else, and my father is just....hiding somewhere.

I know how you feel here - My father died half a world away, none of my family saw him. But his business partners (who we trust) did, he's quite distintive in looks... And he was found in his hotel room...

But china is such a large place.

I didn't worry about him going out there that time - he was always flying out there. It was just a huge shock that everything I once feared came about.

As for the photo - I have one on the wall from our trip to India, but I can't remember anything other than that exact moment and what I said.... Its great you never forgot anything through this manner though

[MaBelle82]

I completely understand where you're coming from. My dad was struggling with depression and often didn't talk to me or my sister for months at a time (not return calls and etc.), so it's still hard for me to comprehend that I'm not just still waiting for his phone call.