When I received news of his passing, it was as if I’d been hit by a ton of bricks, and I felt even more alone. I think knowing he was there and that he loved me was subconsciously comforting. The exchanges we had shared allowed me to learn more about my mom, and culture, and provided me with some guidance that I desperately needed. I had forgiven him for my own healing, but he was the reason for my lack of having immediate family to lean on, of feeling like a constant orphan, and for my depression. I felt a wave of sadness knowing that he died alone and for the life he lived after one awful tragic moment that forever changed his life, and mine. I’ve also felt anger, fear, worry…the plethora of emotions that come with grief. Yesterday was the first decent day I’ve had in awhile and sharing with you in my own words is a way of healing for me. Thank you for helping me along my journey. And thank you to my closet friends for loving me even at my worst. 
