I'm not exactly sure how you move on from a loss. I'm still working through that one. Some days, I want to just feel normal...like I did before my dad got sick. Then, there are times in that day that the thought of feeling normal without him here makes me feel sick and guilty...because it feels like life shouldn't be moving on without my dad. He was a huge part of my normal. He would never want me to feel this way, but I'm human and grieving and I can't help it. He's having a great time up in heaven...hanging with God, his sister, his grandparents, and his in-laws in no more pain thankfully...but he left such a hole here and that is something that will remain empty for the rest of my life.
I used to think it was a little weird when people would mention their parents as their best friends. I guess I thought that parents were more and different than the term "best friend" implied...and they are. But my dad really was my first best friend on top of being a dad. Since I was a kid, we got along more like friends than father/daughter, I just did not really recognize this until I got older. That is not to say that he wasn't always a father first; he was nurturing, a teacher, a spiritual leader and a disciplinarian when he needed to be, but when my behavior caused a disagreement between us, we would rationally talk it out over him scolding me if possible, even when I was young. He was the first person I wanted to tell things to for most of my life until John came along...then he was one of the first. We talked every day I was away at college...and his office was my first stop when I pulled into town.
My dad and I have always been comrades.
We view the world similarly.
We approach life with the same attitude.
We have the same sense of humor.
We just think along the same lines.
And we have the same feet.
They called me "Little Jeff". And minus the feet thing, I guess the rest of that does classify him as a best friend.
And as I have gotten older, I know I really became a best friend to him as well.
One of the things I already miss most is sitting down with him and just talking about life. If he were here right now, he would understand all that I'm feeling, but he'd want me to keep pushing through and living life. He loved life. And I do too. Loving life is a little more difficult right now, but I still have a great one to live.













