My father passed away a few months back of heart failure while battling lung cancer. He entered the hospital and never left. I was there when he died, holding his hand. I also spoke at his funeral, both of which helped greatly in the grieving process. The other night I had a dream that I was at a camp and when I went to turn in my luggage, there he was, helping people get settled in. We talked for a while and he told me about the places he was going to be going next. Then, I gave him a big hug, told him I loved him, and walked out to go to my cabin. When I turned back, he was gone.
I woke up shortly after this at about 5:30 am and sat in the bathroom and cried uncontrollably for about 20 minutes. I realized at that moment how much I miss him and that he is gone for good, at least from this earth. I also realized that he is now where he wanted to be, with Jesus, and is no longer in pain. That is a comfort, but its still hard and I guess it will be for some time. I miss you,
Dad.
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