Dear hereiam, Yeh. I can relate. When my father was dying and I was on the Greyhound riding to say goodbye, I was desperate to think of something he'd done right. I couldn't imagine facing him without something beside loathing on top of my broken heart. I needed somethng to hang my daughter love onto, in the real world. I needed a concrete reason to allow myself to feel any love for him.

It was a dark and stormy night. Rain beat the windows of the bus in sheets. Two lane country road, no street lights. Oncoming headlights and lightening lit dark and looming trees, lining the road. I wouldn't have been suprised to see Ichabod Crane fly across the road. Perfect setting to highlight the stuggle I was experiencing inside myself.

About half way through the 24 hour ride, I Got It !! He taught me first aid, on winter nights, in front of the fireplace. Ahh Haa, I had my good memory, I could face him now.

At the hospital, when I was in his room with my Mom, we watched Hee Haw and football. None of us ever could have a civil conversation..... as Mom and I were leaving to take a break, My father made a sign language sign to me, which I knew I knew, but couldn't put my finger on a the moment.... After Mom and I got back to her house and chilled for a while, it hit me, he had said, "I love you" for the first time in my life.

Good luck finding your way to coping with your feelings. This is a wonderful place to find support for the struggle.