It's been over 2 months since my father died. The longer it's been, I realize one of the worse things about death is how final death is. More than anything I think the finality has been the hardest to live with. The fact that I will never see my dad again, or talk to/with him, or jump in his arms (although I haven't done that in 30 years :)). I miss him alot and I'm glad that I took advantage of the time he did have here on this earth and I got to know him and accept him for himself.