July 23rd I Remember.

You know, I remember telling my dad maybe a month or so before he died, that I needed £1500 upfront before the funeral home would take his body, and when he died I found £1500 he had saved. Even in his darkest days he found the way to help me. I miss my father so much. I still relive his dying days, im clearly someone who cant deal with death. As morbid as I am, im struggling with death. When I had cancer, 6 months after my dad passed away, I was convinced I was going to die and I survived, and everyday ive asked myself why? Why did I survive but my dads cancer killed him. He had Esophageal cancer and it starved him to death. It haunts me. I held my dad as he took his final breath. I didnt see my son die but I envision him dead, because I knew how he died and where he was, I have horrifying images in my head. I saw him in the chapel of rest and it haunts me. I have a photo of my dad in his coffin and I took one of my son but I had to delete it. I couldnt keep a photo of him looking the way he did. My son left one day to go a rave and he never came home, so I had to see him in the chapel of rest. Does that make sense? I had to see that it was my child. I was convinced they had the wrong person and my son was still alive, so I had to see him to put my mind at rest. It was my son and I was devastated. Ive been through so much in such a short space of time, and it shocks me that I keep getting through each day. Honestly, I dont know how im doing it but I am.