I can remember it all like it was yesterday. I was in fifth grade. I remember every detail of that day. I can picture the clothes I was wearing; how I wore my hair. I can see the cloudless sky above me as I play outside with my sister and our friends. It really felt like the day couldn't get any better. My mother picked us up from our friends' houses around dinnertime, like any other day. On the drive home, I got this feeling in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't understand why it was there or what it was for, but I knew I wanted it to go away. Something did not feel right.

Hearing that our father had passed away for the first time did nothing for me. I heard the words, I saw my family surround us, consoling us, but it didn't register. All I could think was, my dad? How could this be?

I didn't know how to react. I sat down at the kitchen table and took a deep breath in, and when I began to exhale, that is when the rest of the night went fuzzy. At 11 years old, death did not seem fathomable, especially for my dad. He was full of life. He was exciting. He was just right there, cheering me on at the talent show last week.

At any age, at any given point in a person's life, the discovery of a loss does not get any easier. Especially when it is unexpected, so many questions escape from your subconscious. These thoughts come from the darkest corners of your mind, a place where everyone hopes to never have to visit. You begin to question WHY? Why did this happen? HOW could this have happened? Is it MY fault?

Sometimes, the grief comes rushing in all at once, and other times it takes a while for it to hit. For me, I don't remember the exact moment I really felt it. I think it was when I had to go back and face the outside world. Maybe it was when I had to walk outside of my house, and see cars passing by with people dancing to the music playing from the radio and other kids playing outside, all with smiles on their faces, that I then understood, life was moving on, with or without my permission.

It took a long time for the realization to set in. For years, I felt nothing but pure guilt and anger. I felt as if in some way, I was to blame for the death of my father, or that the things I may have done leading up to that day contributed to it somehow. I would fall asleep every night, and replay the moments where I felt most guilty for. I would feel so angry with myself, and everything around me. I couldn't imagine our lives ever feeling "normal" again, not without the ever-present void surfacing, making itself known.

Even though, with time, it gets a little easier to breathe again, I can't help but feel a little sting in my heart when I notice the absence of my father, and the other people in my life whom we've lost, during the big moments - the milestones. I can't help but think of the future, and how I wish they could have been there, or could be here to share it all with us. It wasn't until later in life did I realize that all of these thoughts, feelings, and emotions are a part of the recovery process and that I was not the only one going through this. With the help and the guidance of my mother, family, faith, and friends, we were able to help each other through the darkness.

Experiencing a loss is on so many levels life-altering, and everyone has their own way of dealing with such tragedy. What I have learned from my own experience is how precious life really is. Losing a loved one, though it is something we never want to have to face, taught me the importance of living one day at a time. Today, we consume ourselves with so many things that really should take a back seat to what is really important, and that is not taking such precious time we are given, and those who are put on our paths for granted. I learned how to use this precious time I have been given in my own life to appreciate and acknowledge everything around me.

While I miss my father, my grandmother, grandfather, my uncle, I have learned to replace the feelings of sadness with memories of some of the best days of my life and childhood. I have learned to not focus so heavily on the fact that they are gone, but to embrace the moments I had with them. I learned to cherish those beside me, and around me, and enjoy our lives altogether.

For those of you who may have lost someone close to you, there will be days when you want to pull the covers up over your head and hide, and that is okay, but know that you are not alone. Know that you have family and friends to surround you and keep you light. I know that sometimes a memory may not feel "enough" to get you through tough moments, and the pain may never fully go away but the hurt will subside. You will heal at your own pace. There is no time limit for the recovery process. Utilize your faith, and believe that our loved ones are all around us. Take this precious time that we have been given, and begin to live your life again, for your loved ones, and most importantly for yourself. I promise you, it gets easier...