Both my parents lost their fight with cancer. My mom—I wrote about here already—died 118 days ago, my dad followed her 20 days later. I still think about them every single day, wishing they were still alive. Not a single hour goes by without them being in my thoughts.
I’m not alone in life, yet I often feel that I am. I’m have no clue why that is. I miss them terribly, and I would have given up anything and everything for them not to have suffered. I’m still depressed. Trying to sort out my feelings. My life. Get my thoughts in order. Nothing’s helping. That’s why I’ve been writing so little. I wonder when life will be easier.
It probably won’t.
Spend time with your loved ones. You’ll regret it later if you don’t. Trust me on this one.