Why is so hard to cope with death? Aren’t we all suppose to know how this life thing works. Were born, we live, and we die, but why does grieving hurt so bad? The loss of my father was so unexpected, and at the time of his death, he lived with me. I’m not sure if I would feel differently about his death if I wasn’t the one who found him in our home, or if this pain I carry with me everyday would even be as bad if it happened at a different location. I told my father to move in with me so that I could monitor his health and help him get better because I knew if the shoe was on the other foot he would do the same for me. I’m still trying to process why?, the moment I go on vacation and return there he is laid out on the bathroom floor, helpless. Who knows how long he was there, but the fact of the matter is I feel guilt because I wasn’t there. After that day I haven’t been able to sleep, eat, or even feel comfortable in my own home because of the constant replay of how it happened. My father wouldn’t blame me though…. right? I’m not sure…, that’s a question I probably would never be able to answer. I just hope that with time I will learn to remember the good times we spent together, and know that you loved me more then life itself. If only I could erase all the guilt and replace it with years of love and fun times spent. Rest in Heaven Daddy you will forever be in my heart.