I didn't exactly have a rift with my father, but he had become a recluse. He was an alcoholic with a dying liver even after detox, and bad circulation, and some other things... He refused to come out of his room. I was too afraid to go in and speak to him, and I don't know if I can ever forgive myself. I know he was not mentally stable, that he was not the same father I knew... but then I think of him, sitting alone in his room in the throws of depression, feeling alone and helpless to stop death, so much that he had threatened suicide at a couple points, and I feel like the most awful daughter in the world. I feel like I let him die and didn't try to help ease his pain. But I've never been good at coping with death, and him locking himself in his room and refusing to go to the doctor or speak to me made it so much worse. I convinced myself he would go to the doctor and get better, but it never happened.... he passed Thursday night, alone in his room, in the dark, without a soul with him. I feel so much pain in my heart. I remember my daddy before he got sick, and I just want my Dad back. As sick as it sounds, I want him back before he quit drinking... it feels like the detox ruined everything, that suddenly he had mental health problems and was dying... It's almost like when my mom finally got him to quit drinking, he started a downward spiral and I just want my dad back. Alcoholic and all, he wasn't perfect, but at least I could hug my dad and know we loved eachother.

Has anyone else lost a family member who they weren't speaking to for one reason or another? How did you forgive yourself? Does the pain eventually ease? I know there's no "timetable" for grief... but how long did it take you to stop thinking about it to a point where it interfered with everyday life?