My Dad, My Home!
An Ode to My Dad I never imagined I would have to write about my dad in the past tense. Just days ago, he was here, and now, somehow, I am trying to put a lifetime of memories into words. I wasn't ready. None of us were. His passing was a shock, and I still don't quite know how to make sense of a world in which he isn't here. The usually strong, outwardly composed Nancy couldn't hold it together this time. The walls I normally keep around myself simply couldn't contain the pain. I know I am supposed to be strong for Mom, my children and the rest of the family, but nope. This time, I couldn't. Because losing Dad isn't just losing my father. It is losing the person who has been part of almost every version of me — the little girl who worshipped him, the teenager who annoyed him, the daughter who could always turn to him, and the woman I became who somehow never quite stopped being his little girl. My dad was an exceptional man. Anyone who knew him, even casu...
