It’s hard to believe that 4 years ago today, I stood beside my dad’s hospital bed and told him that I loved him for the last time.

While I’ve healed enough that it doesn’t affect me every single day, it feels like such a short time ago.

The emotions still hit me at random times, over the smallest things. A comment, a memory, and my eyes unexpectedly fill with tears. They rarely fall anymore, but they come, nonetheless.

Tonight, when I’m alone before bed – just because of the day – they will probably fall. But it won’t be sorrow for the good things I miss; it will be because of the love I remember.

Tell me what you think.

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