I’m taking on the responsiblity of writing my dad’s obituary. 

Words like brutal, painful, raw, and excruciating come to mind.

Remembering and honoring my dad is incredibly important to me.

I can’t stop crying.

He’s never coming back.

I’m already forgetting what his voice sounds like.

I stood in his closet and smelled his clothes.

My poor mom. She lost her friend of 59 almost 60 years.