TOMORROW will be five years since my father passed away, and though I do not love or miss him any less; the pain of his loss eases only in the joy of the memories of the good times that come to mind. As such it should. I use to really beat myself up over having returned home from staying with him two weeks in the hospital only to learn he passed after I left. April "fool's Day" is always difficult for me, because I felt so foolish for leaving him. But foolish is allowing myself not to be proud of my tenacity in staying both night and day with him in the ICU (or sleeping on the waiting room floor) for two weeks. *sigh* From here on out I should just say... "I miss you Dad" and leave it at that.