I never really understood the line " a part of me died" or "my world came crashing down" - how is this even possible when we can still breathe, when we can still move and eat, and love, get aroused and desire objects and people. How can a part of us die when we are in essence, still functioning? 

My father died two weeks ago and it's only now that I am beginning to understand that death transcends grief. That a person can still laugh and yet be two inches away from crying.

Some day, I'll write about how glad I am.