My Dad is really dead. It's hitting me pretty hard today. He's not coming back. This isn't a dream. La vida es sueño y los sueños, sueños son.
I miss him so badly. I had forgotten that I took a photo of him on my cell phone minutes after he died. I found it today. It brought back terrible memories, but I cannot delete it. He left my mother in a terrible position. Nothing is easy right now. There are so many unknowns. The medical bills are staggering. The future is an undiscovered country ruled by a dictator named debt.
I am struggling. I want to ask my dad for advice. He's dead. No one to turn to that I can ask the same kinds of questions. I have two grandpas I could ask, but it's not the same. My dad and I were alike. We were entrepreneurs. The gears were always turning. I don't know anyone like my dad. He was unique in my realm. I miss him so so badly.
This is for real and I fucking hate it.