It's interesting to me how I've chosen Psychology as my major specifically to get into the lives of others and help them out, but I find myself digging into my own. I never really dealt with my father passing. I just took the situation in and marked it as another devastating thing that has happened to me, another person walking out of my life, another person who God has taken into his Kingdom... And left me with the fear to love, for loving someone results in me losing them. It's been a little over 7 years since that day that I came home from school dropped my school bag and ran into my mom's room to discover that I couldn't call you anymore, I couldn't make visits out to Chicago to see you because you were now resting with the Angles, and I haven't forgiven myself for that because instead of calling you more like I now wish I could have, I spent time being angry because you waited so long to tell me that you had been diagnosed with cancer and might not make it. "I love you, and will always love you," is what you said to me the night before you passed. Your death has affected me greatly... no more daddy to tell me why the boys are being mean, no more daddy to later in life to tell me about the opposite sex, and no more daddy to walk his baby down the aisle on her wedding day.
From this experience I have learned that you should always tell someone how you feel because they may not be around tomorrow, and not everyone you love you will lose. I miss you terribly and I know you are with me each and everyday.
I love you,
Jazzy