My only childhood memories of my dad are the hole that his death left in my life. However, It wasn't until I turned 30 (the age my mom was when he died) that I gained newfound appreciation for how truly difficult things must have been for her. Before then, I only thought about the loss to me and our family as a whole.
It made me realize how much even the smallest of things - like a hug or kiss goodbye - matter, whether we like it or not. The things we do and those we choose not to do change the course of our lives and we have to be present in those moments of decision, even if they might be difficult or painful. Everything counts.
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