my father passed away two years ago. When dealing with the loss of a loved one, whoever said it gets better was wrong. Whenever grief visits me again, it hurts just as much as the day I was introduced. The time in between each visit grows more and more, but it shows up at my doorstep at the most inconvenient times. It drops in when I hear a song that reminds me of him, for when I see a father dancing with his little girl, but when I think about my future wedding, all seemingly happy moments become tainted by grief. Grief is not a sickness, so unfortunately, there is no cure. It unwillingly becomes a part of you, the part most people prefer to hide because of the pain. Sometimes, I can't help but wonder what I did in a past life or even this one to live with such a curse, to know someone during some of the most important years of your life, only to have the absence of their presence accompany you for the remainder of your time. The only connection I feel I have with him is through the emotions I still feel.

while remembering the memories he gave me. All of my favorite memories with him involved the rain. When I was little, I used to be terrified of thunderstorms. My dad always tried his best to help me overcome that fear. The first time being when I was little, he pulled up two chairs to face out the back window and told me to take a seat next to him. As I did, he told me there was nothing to be afraid of. When I asked him why, he answered, Because it's just God bowling. I was confused by his statement, so he explained, The Thunder is the ball rolling down the lane, and the lightning shows his strikes. [Music] We sat there for a while counting how many strikes he got. When I got older, my fears were still there, so one night I was having a difficult time sleeping because of a storm going on outside. Dad got me up, took me outside, and as I stood on the porch, I watched my dad walk into the rain down to the sidewalk. He turned around and motioned for me to

follow him. I was reluctant but trusted him and followed. As we stood there, rain pouring down on us, my dad started dancing into all the puddles he could. I decided to do the same and couldn't stop myself from smiling. The thunder became the beat, the lightning our disco ball. The last memory I have with him was around the time he was moving to New Jersey. He was moving states away from me, and he came by one last time to say goodbye. As we stood at the end of the driveway talking, we were greeted by the rain. My dad didn't even flinch; he stood there accepting the rain and continuing our conversation. I don't even remember what we were talking about; all I could think about was the new addition I had to my collection of memories. As I hugged him goodbye, both of us soaked, I smiled despite the cold. I felt very warm. [Music] I think of him whenever I welcome the droplets falling from the sky. I'll never get to be held by him again.

but whenever I feel the cold raindrops on my skin, for just a moment, I feel connected again. For a moment, it feels like he never left. Sometimes I become overwhelmed with the fear that I could one day forget any of it. When I start to feel the fear creep in, I'm comforted by the photographs he left behind. It's sad to know that I'll never get the chance to ask him his stories about his life or his childhood. But I appreciate the opportunity to look at these old photos and get a glimpse into what those stories may have been. It's a pleasant feeling to look back at these older pictures of him and recognize the parts of him that I got to experience as a child: his humor, his love for sports, his talent with pumpkin carving, how much he loved his family and his kids, his love for fishing, or his super cool gas station dad sunglasses. foreign [Music] [Applause] [Music] [Applause] [Music] [Applause] thank you foreign

[Applause] [Music] My dad and I didn't have the best relationship towards the later years of his life. He's always struggled with addiction since I was little. I was never able to understand it growing up, so it's caused a lot of anger to build up over the years. [Music] It wasn't until I began to struggle with my own addiction that I finally was able to understand his experience. [Music] Something I don't share with a lot of people is that I've always felt like my dad died a long time ago, long before he ever actually did. I remember sitting on the floor in the shower, crying my eyes out over feeling like I've lost the dad I knew when I was little. My dad was playful, caring, and funny. Then one day, he completely changed and became cold and angry. It got to the point where I didn't recognize my dad staring back at me. I continuously felt though I was mourning someone that was still very much alive. My dad meant the world to me.

probably more than he'll ever know. I hope wherever he is now, he knows I forgive him. I find comfort in knowing that we've both finally found peace.

Dealing With Grief: Saying Goodbye, Dad

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