It took me about 2 years to talk about my dad’s death. And finally yesterday, after 8 and a half years, I could stand in front of my dad’s grave and smile. I guess it’s a combination of knowing what I want for my future and that it’s something I know he’ll be proud of.
And I’m not the only one who has finally come to terms with it. My mom, year after year, curses every time we’re at the grave. She blames him for so many things – I don’t blame her, she works so hard. Yesterday was probably the first time I didn’t hear her “scold” my father. So yes, we’ve all grown. Grown for the better.