Many years ago, my dad died of colon cancer at age 50 when I was 24. Obviously it rocked my world and I was heartbroken, but on the other hand, he and I had been close and I knew he loved me. The connection was somehow still there, probably because I am so much like him, he just sort of lives on.

I think it was much harder on my mom and younger brothers, for reasons I won't go into.

Yes, Dad wasn't there to walk me down the aisle when I got married. My middle brother walked me. Yes, Dad wasn't there for my first child. My youngest brother lived in the same town and was the best uncle a kid could have.

My mom eventually married again, to a wonderful man.

My dad will never be forgotten, and it was a huge shock at the time, but we soldiered on.