My whole life I knew my father loved me unconditionally. I knew I mattered to him. He made me feel worthwhile and important. It wasn't something I sat around thinking about on a daily basis, "Oh boy! I am soooo loved!" It was just this intangible thing that was part of my life - and there was no better feeling in the world than being special to my dad. That feeling was always there; so familiar and constant it often went unnoticed - like background music.
When he died, the music stopped. Now that, I noticed.
The silence is deafening.
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