I lost my dad three ago today. I can’t believe it’s already been three years. I just went back a read over a blog I posted the day that he died. I kept a pretty detailed account of the last two weeks I was home taking care of him with the rest of my family. I still can’t believe he’s really gone. It’s quite literally unbelievable. I draw so much inspiration from him on a daily basis. His voice is always in the back of my head. There are things like checking the clock and noticing it’s 9:11 (his birthday was on September 11) that make me think maybe there is something to life after death. I don’t know if it’s exists and I can’t prove anything. I’m aware that the mind is powerful and can play tricks on us. But that small glimmer, however silly, reminds me all the time that our loved ones are everywhere. It doesn’t matter if they’re alive or dead, they continue to live through us in so many ways. There is something to be said for knowing someone so well that you can give yourself advice from them. Of course it’s never as good as hearing his words, but I can almost hear them in my head. I’m so afraid of losing that. My greatest fear is not of dying, but forgetting him.