They say that moving on from grief under the adage that is, "Time heals all wounds" is essential simply because, well, you must move on with life in order to function in society and eventually be happy.
I guess I did that.
Yet, from time to time I wonder if I am thinking about my dead father enough.
It sounds morbid, but in between dealing with crap at work, toxic people you evitably run into and getting tired of the same old debauchery you always induldged in, you tend to wonder what life is really about.
Life is short. Perhaps we need our past traumas to be reminded what is truly important.
Or we could just get a new hobby. Whatever.