Not saying goodbye.

What is my dad's picture doing attached to an obituary? How can this be? How did it happen?  I know now the numbness that death brings.  This past week has seemed surreal as we greeted old friends, heard stories of my dad and his buddies, as neighbors brought lots of food, lots of flowers.

It just doesn't seem real.

I don't want it to be real.

I want to go back to the numbness and if I swallow hard enough, I can avoid thinking for a while longer.  I know this is going to hit me like a sledgehammer and I know that the longer I wait to face it, the harder it is going to hurt.  But I can't deal with it right now.  Maybe not ever.

I am so sorry for every sympathy card I didn't write, for every hug I didn't give to someone had lost someone close to them.  I've always thought that by saying something or doing something it would just make the hurt worse.  But I know now that is not true.  Not for me anyway.

I remember the moment that my dad died. I knew he wasn't there anymore and that his soul had flown away. For some reason, even though I question nearly everything, I know that deep in my heart that he is with his family and friends.

My dad didn't look like my dad anymore when he died.  He didn't wear his glasses and seemed way too thin for have only been in the hospital for two weeks.

My parents have been my heroes forever and I don't feel quite grown up enough to be left without either one of them.  Yet I am.