Today is the 3-year anniversary of my father's death. I sat in the hospital room with him and my mother, holding his hand, just before he died.

I cried a little bit this morning, and yes, of course there were aspects of him that were endearing, but overall, I feel more at peace since he's been gone. He is the root of many of my troubles - he was a narcissist and emotionally abused me. He neglected me, rarely supported me, and was overly critical and controlling of me. All of my issues that I still struggle with today are a result of how he and my mother treated me.

So I feel very little today about the loss. It is not a loss for me in fact, it's a gain. I regained myself again. Even though I am stumbling around, a bit off kilter, I feel liberated.

So that's how I feel about my father dying.