A close friend of my father’s lost his wife two years before my father died. (Almost to the day, actually.)
When I occasionally check in with him, he says that he thinks of my father and of his wife every day. In the last couple of years, he has lost a great deal of weight. He tries to act cheery, but he has a lot of bitterness; it pops out in unexpected places. He’s become an unhappy person, and seems determined to stay that way.
I was afraid that the anger I had over losing my father so young would define me, or hold me back, but I see now that that’s entirely within my control. And I’m taking steps forward in building a new life. I moved to a new city. I got married! Soon I will let go of more of my father’s material possessions.
I will be okay, if I want to be.