tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7734549.post1865881642507179966..comments2024-01-08T12:29:27.302-05:00Comments on Anybody Home: Remembering My DadJudyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17065893613028995685noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7734549.post-83674421554622255622014-08-24T05:30:34.881-04:002014-08-24T05:30:34.881-04:00The experience of my father's death still lies...The experience of my father's death still lies ahead of me. The photo of your father is a precious one - full of vitality, fun, and good humor. I'm sure you have a huge place in your heart reserved for remembering him.Rebeccahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08740950362293427086noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7734549.post-85442547872360650652014-08-22T11:08:38.760-04:002014-08-22T11:08:38.760-04:00The pain does ease, but you will always wish you s...The pain does ease, but you will always wish you still had them with you. <br />(((hugs)))My name WAS Female, I shit you not!https://www.blogger.com/profile/18261595799137622984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7734549.post-54630641152742222012014-08-22T04:37:02.542-04:002014-08-22T04:37:02.542-04:00Yes, you get used to the loss, somewhat, but not r...Yes, you get used to the loss, somewhat, but not really. My dad died, 84 years old, in 1987. At first I thought almost every day: I must tell dad, I must ask dad, then it became after a few years once a week, till the time came my thoughts were like: what would dad have said, what would dad have enjoyed this. Now my mum died 2 years ago, the same process started all over again, my mum was still Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com