My dad died in August 1999. Today would have been his 78th birthday. 7 years after he died, I still miss him horribly. For some reason, I've come to be OK on the anniversary of the day he died, but his birthday always hurts.

My dad was an alcoholic with a temper. We had our share of problems when I was growing up, but he mellowed out and I grew up and we had a pretty good adult relationship, for as long as it lasted. I was in my early 30s when he died. I didn't really get a chance to say goodbye, which will bother me forever. He was dx'd with cancer on Memorial Day weekend and died Aug. 1. By the time I was able to get home to see him, he couldn't walk, talk, even sit up by himself, and he didn't know who I was. My mom was absolutely horrible to him, but that story belongs in PTSD.

I wonder if you ever get over it. He's missed so much in my life that I wish he had been here for.