Where to even begin…

I think it’s safe to say that given the circumstance, it’s inevitable that this won’t be a very “cookie cutter” piece. It’s not going to be filled with, “it’s all okay,” because it’s not always “all okay.” Yes, it’ll end up okay, but not everything is always okay all the time- and that’s okay.

Instead, this will be raw, it will be unfiltered and it very well may even be messy and all over the place; but that’s just how life is sometimes. Life can be really messy.

It’s 12:00am on the dot, and I sit here trying to find the right words to string together to write this. But that’s just the thing: there are no “right words.” And I think that that says a lot.

I don’t know how to explain exactly what it’s like to lose a parent at a young age. I’ve re-written this article about 25 times now because I just don’t know what to say; it would take about a dozen Bible length books to try to even begin to really sum it up, but again, I guess that’s the whole point.

Losing a parent at a young age is kind of like driving without wearing a seatbelt. You’re going through all of the same motions, except the security is gone and sometimes you wonder what the hell you’re doing driving around without your seatbelt on. And then it's like a big domino effect of what-the-hell’s.

I lost my dad under a month ago, at the age of 18. Since then, I’ve experienced pains I didn’t even know were possible. I’ve definitely felt true pain before, but it was never anything like this. It's indescribable. It's unpredictable.

It's sitting in the car listening to your favorite songs with the one you love, and then bursting into tears because you see something as small as speed bump that reminds you of them- and then it feels like the world crashing down around you all over again. All over a speed bump.

It’s getting signs from them-- like swearing that you saw them on the street or heard their voice when you pick up the phone.

It's getting a LOT of questions of “how are you,” and having zero clue on how to respond.

It’s making deep connections with people that you never imagined you would and in ways you didn’t know you could.

It's waking up early to make a big, surprise breakfast for your siblings just like your parent did to keep their traditions alive.

It’s physically feeling the breath get knocked out of you and going from smiling at one second to falling to the ground in despair the next.

It's seeing the beauty in something like a dirty old bathrobe that still reeks of your dad’s cologne.

It’s becoming painfully aware of every single milestone and moment that was robbed of you and how profoundly ugly that realization is. Graduations, jobs, first houses, weddings, children- all gone.

It's being scared, but not letting the fear stop you because you remember their advice. It's getting that extra push to grow through whatever you're going through because “you got this.”

It's being genuinely happy in your life (like I am now), but having to fight with all your might to not let that light fade away.

It's surviving because the fire inside of you burns brighter than the fire around you.

It’s a pain like no other and it’s having so many thoughts running rampant in your head that you can swear you feel them pressing up against your skull.

It's stopping to smell the roses because my god, they're roses and “don't you know the work that goes into gardening?”

It’s hearing endless stories about them from countless people (some of which your ears were probably never meant to hear), and being able to see the impact and legacy they’ve left in this world.

And sometimes it’s feeling absolutely nothing at all. Sometimes I become so numb that I just sit there- really just sit there. I have no thoughts, no hunger, thirst, or feeling. It’s as if I’m not even there.

It's falling seven times and standing up eight.

I don’t know how to act at all. And I know that there’s no “right” way to react or act after losing someone, but I mean I really don't know what I'm doing. I’m at a seemingly constant battle with myself: to let myself be happy or not to…is it bad to feel happy when there’s been such a tragedy?

It’s good I have the battles though (at least for now). It’s really good because it means that I know it’s okay to have fun and it’s okay to feel happy even after something so monumentally disastrous. My dad made point of telling my siblings and I to not isolate ourselves and to go have a good time- to enjoy life. He wanted nothing more than for us to be happy and to make every day we can into a good day and to see the positives life has to offer. And hey, whatever dad says goes.

“Life isn’t fair sometimes, but that doesn’t mean it’s not still good.”

Now, that's another good one. Life overall will always have good in it, whether you directly feel like you’re experiencing it or you don't. Life is also unmercifully unfair at times. However, “it’s not the load that breaks you down, it’s the way you carry it.” Remember that.

Losing a parent at a young age is not knowing how to do a lot of things because you don't have that guide you're used to, but it's also doing it anyways.

And it's not knowing how to end a lot of things- like an article- because you just don't have the answers. There is a lot of unfinished business and even more unanswered questions.

It's messy.

It's sad.

It's unfair.

But it happened, and it's still happening.

So, it also means not giving into the terrors of it all.

It's choosing to let go of what you thought should happen, and choose to live in what is happening, and make the most out of it.

Yes, it's good and healthy to let yourself be sad, but that doesn't mean letting the sadness consume you.

It's coming out stronger. Louder. Prouder.

Losing a parent at a young age is honoring them by choosing to wake up with a grateful heart every. single. day.

“I'm going to make everything around me beautiful, and that will be my life.”

And oh my god...it is realizing the tremendous amount of support, love, and encouragement so many people have to offer you, and with open arms.

It’s seeing your parent in the world and people that surround you each and every day.

It’s doing all that you can and doing it all with love.

And it’s feeling closer to them by doing just that.

It’s chaotic and it’s horrible, but it’s not the end.

I love you and I miss you, forever.

Here's to you, to life, and to your happily ever after.