I have been putting this off for a very long time, almost 10 years. The fact of the matter is that I have been in denial all this time. See, my father is dead, but I haven't been able to convince myself that he is truly gone. I guess it is the way that he died. My father owned a couple of apartment buildings and he was shot and killed by some teenagers while collecting the rent. I happened to be in the hospital at the time and I didn't find out that my father was killed until after I was released. My stepmother didn't want a service, so the reality of the situation never sank in. I still haven't been able to grieve for him. I don't know how to actually get myself out of this denial. Even as I write this now, it seems more like a story than it does reality.
My dad died thinking that I didn't love him. I know this is true because my dad told this to my uncle and cousin and my cousin told me a few years after my dad died. This is not how I felt at all. I loved my dad, but I didn't tell him. Now it's too late to tell him face to face. All I can hope for now is that he is able to read this.
I'm feeling a little disconnected right now, so I'll stop here and finish this in another post.
--To Be Continued...--