My dad died February 16. I almost threw up just writing that sentence it's still so new. I don't know what to say and I have a million things to say. I take enormous comfort in the fact that I feel him all the time. I hear his words and feel him helping me along. The sun has been shining the past few days and I swear it's him.  I also take comfort in my family. My mom, sister and brothers have more joy in our darkest hour than most people do in their whole lives. My sister said that as the 5 of us stood on my parent's front lawn. We huddled together and hugged. My dad would be so proud.

There are a zillion details I could share but writing it seems to take away from the specialness of it all: His death, his wake, his funeral, burial and reception. Maybe some other time. Know this, RMP...No went out in more style than you.

My dad was magical and those that knew him know that it is true. He lit up every single time he saw me. Every single time. That, among many many other things is something I will take with me and try to emulate for my children. His passion and joy for life was infectious and he made you feel so good when you were with him.

I feel lost and foggy. Naseous and tired. I've said that I am exhausted carrying around this heavy heart.