my own personal reading material

This is an entry from my journal. Sometimes I enjoy looking back and seeing where I was a certain points in my life. This is why I write.

8/29/2007

So, where to begin? This summer. Finding my Dad dead in the backyard.

I don't really even begin to know how to talk about it. I think about my Dad constantly everyday and all night. Not about finding him, about what my life was and what it is now. I have become obsessed with trying to comprehend what happened. If he stayed in bed five more minutes, if he went to work that day, if he would have (at anypoint in his life) done any series of any events differently, would things have happened this way? Or was it always that his fate was going to lead him to having a heart attack on June 22? I just dont know. I am sad because I miss him and I have barely begun to accept the fact that he is gone.

He is such a close memory right now but as the years go by his memory will become distant and more distant and that is what scares me.












I like this post because now, two and a half years later, I could not find a better way to say this.