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6 Months

I have been told from people time and time again that the grief gets easier. Although it is usually from people who have never gone through losing a parent.

From those who have though, they tell me it doesn't get easier. You just learn to live with it.

I don't want to learn to live with this.

6 months without my Dad has been unbearable and some days I feel like I can't breathe because my heart feels like it's being ripped out of my chest.

Every day I still feel like I am going to walk into his house and see him standing by the counter.

Every day I relive those 28 days in the hospital with him.

I remember calling my mom 2 days before he passed begging her to tell him to get up.

I would put the phone by his ear and I would beg her, crying and telling her, "Mom, make him get up. Tell him we still need him."

36 years old and I still thought my Mom could fix this for us.

I now know that she could never fix this for us but in that moment I felt like a child wanting my mommy to make everything better.

Sometimes the "boo-boos" on our hearts can't be fixed with kisses.

The days leading up to the "firsts" of this year are always the hardest.

The day before my birthday I cried, a lot.

My birthday I cried probably all day. I knew that every time I got a text or a call saying, "Happy Birthday" was a reminder that I would never hear my Dad say it to me ever again.

Every day I beg God for just another day with my Dad or like my sister said, "Just 5 more minutes" with him.

We never got a good-bye.

I never got to hear him say, "I love you or I am proud of you" one last time.

It's hard.


Especially on days when I get good news and I can't call him to tell him.

If I stay sober through this first year of losing him, it will be a damn miracle.

Because every day, I don't want to feel the grief.

I want it gone.

My mom wishes she could take our pain away.

Mike wishes he could take my pain away.

I wish every day that I could just have my Dad back.

It isn't fair.

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