If I have one more person tell me my kids are lucky because of the age they are when their dad died I might spit in their face.
What do you know on the situation? Have you experienced this? Not a day goes by that both of my boys don't feel the loss and the emptiness of not having their father. Not a day passes without questions. They miss the morning ritual. One on one attention. The fist bumps. The classic rock listened to on morning truck rides. The fact that they had a father. The fact that they lived with two adults. They miss having a man to show them to pee. To take them into a male restroom. To simply be surrounding by some masculinity. They want to know where he is. They want to see him. Feel him. They miss their best friend. This is not something that they will move on from. This is not something they will get over. Death. Loss is learning acceptance. Being ok with not understanding why. Learning to go forward in life without your hero. Your mom is your cheerleader, but your dad is your superman. The wrestler, the one that teaches you to defend yourself. The one to help out when you start to like girls. The one who teaches you to throw and hit a ball. So the next time you tell me my kids are lucky, I'm going to tell you to go to hell.
Don't act like you know how my kids are or aren't doing and stop asking "how are you?" It is a stupid damn question.
Meet the Author (me)
Driven by a need to help others. I have known from a young age that this is what I wanted to do. This is my very real, somewhat sarcastic, look into my newfound widowhood. I hope this site will help you as much as it helps me.