July 19th marked the 23rd anniversary of the death of my biological father ... I was 6 years old and I barely remember him. My mom remarried the man I grew up calling "dad" when I was 10. I had a good life and in a way, I think I was blessed to lose my father at such an early age. Please don't misread that and think that I'm happy he died ... I most certainly am not. And there are times that I get angry that he's gone. But I was so young and therefore I didn't have a lifetime of memories.
Nonetheless, I still find myself feeling a little gloomy this time of year and I start over thinking the "might-have-beens". I don't dwell on it but I think it's natural.
Another thing I think about is the fact that I am the same age right now that my mom was when she found herself suddenly single with 2 kids. I can't imagine how hard that was. I imagine it was very tough for her to grieve properly when she was trying to keep life somewhat normal for my brother and me. I am so thankful to her for her love and commitment to us. She could've easily just given up and gotten consumed in grief but she chose to keep going. The example she set will always be with me.
I hope to one day see my father in Heaven. I know that I'll be there but I don't know how his heart was before he died. I've come to accept that regardless of whether he's there, Heaven is going to be a very happy place and I won't grieve if he's not there. But I do pray that he is.
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