be at peace with the death of my father

My father died almost three years ago—on June 29, 2002. I was 19. It has been an exhausting, emotional journey. My father was also my best friend, so his death has been especially difficult for me. For the first year and a half, I was a complete mess. It’s only been within the previous year that I finally accepted what had happened. I’m a million times better than I was at the beginning of the grief process. I can talk about him, listen to songs he recorded, and look at pictures of him without crying. I’m finally feeling back to “normal” (although “normal” doesn’t technically exist since your life is permanently altered after a loss of that magnitude…but maybe you get the gist of what I mean.) I guess what I’m saying is that, all things considered, I am doing amazingly well. But sudden, tragic, and completely unexpected loss delivers more shock to your body than a bolt of lightning. So, while I’ve accepted his death, I’m not completely at peace with it. I’d like to hope that someday…maybe not this year, maybe not this decade, but someday…I will be.