June 22, 1989
My father died seventeen years ago today. That seems so odd to say. It still hurts, sometimes more now than ever. I think I've finally started dealing with things I didn't realize that I had buried. I know that God is pulling it out of me, and that's a good thing.
I think one thing that angers me most about my father dying is that he is missing out on so much of my life, as well as my two brothers. He also is missing out on a wonderful woman, my mother.
It's so hard sometimes to let go of things, but with letting go comes freedom.
I think one thing that angers me most about my father dying is that he is missing out on so much of my life, as well as my two brothers. He also is missing out on a wonderful woman, my mother.
It's so hard sometimes to let go of things, but with letting go comes freedom.