Ezra

My dad died 13 years ago, when I was 26. In some ways, I think I’ve processed it. In other ways, I feel like some part of me completely stopped then and my life has been partially paused since then. I feel like, although I was sort of young to lose a parent, I was an adult and it was 13 years ago, and I should have been able to process it by now. On the other hand, he was basically the most important, best person in my life, so it makes sense that I’d be feeling the loss so hard, even now.