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No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. – C. S. Lewis

Dad and me

Dad and me

Sometimes when Dad tucked me in at night when I was a little girl, we’d have a heart-to-heart.

Once, maybe more than once, I’d tell him I didn’t want to go to sleep because what if I woke up and he was gone, or worse was in an accident and died.

I just couldn’t imagine life without him. The thought made my heart feel like it would pound out of my chest.

Dad would tell me he wasn’t going anywhere; he wasn’t going to die.

“You promise, Daddy?”

“I promise.”

Dad has always been my Plan B, even when I moved across the country. I knew that if I couldn’t figure something out, or if I was in trouble, Dad would make it right.

Even though I did not resort to Plan B much, I knew it was there and knowing it, gave me courage.

It has been eight weeks and two days since Dad passed away. And although I’m not a little girl anymore, some mornings I feel like my heart will pound out of my chest.