Four years ago on this day, I met my father for the last time. After nearly two months of being sick, he left all of us for his next journey. His death brought the deepest , darkest grief I have ever known.
I miss him when something good happens because I really want to share with him. I miss him when I’m in trouble because he was the one who guided me in difficult times. I miss him all the time, but I miss him the most when I close my eyes, when I can see his face – that last time when he was alive – as vivid as it was on his last day of his life.
The grief for my father has not disappeared with time, but the blessings that life has given these past four years has filled our hearts. We are moving on with our lives, making new memories and remembering the old ones.
Knowing that even the most beautiful days eventually have their sunsets, I also believe he is watching us from above.