The End

My father died today.

I'm surprised the earth is still spinning. I'm surprised the sun is still shining. I'm surprised his death didn't cause a rip in the space-time continuum and destroy the universe.

It seems as though there should be some sort of acknowledgment by the world that my father is dead, but as far as I can tell the only thing that has changed is me. Half of me is missing. Does that ever come back? I doubt it. I think you must just grow accustomed to being empty. The problem is that the emptiness fills with sadness.

I will never see him again. I will never hear his voice again. I will never be his daughter again. I will never matter to anyone the way I mattered to him again.

He was everything to me. I don't know who I am without him.

I suppose the sun will rise tomorrow and life will go on - same old, same old. How can that possibly be?

It can't.

Nothing will ever be the same again.

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