On Death and Dying

As I think everyone knows by now, I lost my father last week to sudden cardiac death. My father's heart simply died. Certain things have gone awry since then. I can't eat or sleep or write. I can't focus on one thing for more than 20 seconds. I spend the sunlight hours wishing for a sign from my father and the darkness terrified that I'll get one. I spent the last week wrapped tightly in the anesthesia of numbing shock. My priest, who is quite fond of metaphors, once told me that the road to healing is straight through the woods, one step at a time. Last week I told him that I'm afraid of that, afraid of the amount of grief waiting just beyond the tree line and he reminded me - one step at a time. If there's one thing I can offer, the first lesson I've learned thus far it's this: don't leave anything unresolved. Don't let anyone wonder if you love them or not. Cling tightly to the people you love. The people I love have carried me for a week now. Without that, I might have been lost, wandering about in the woods. I pray we never walk alone.