I am not one to always dwell on the past but it has been exactly six months since dad passed away.  It is funny how grief works itself through a person.  I used to think about him all the time. Every activity would remind me of something from his life.  I would go to sleep thinking of his memory each night. Then I felt guilty if I started to enjoy life after he was gone.  Then I accepted that dad would want me to enjoy life after he was gone.  Then I became afraid that I would forget him. Now I realize that I could never forget him because he has become a part of me.  Everytime I eat chili in the fall I will think of dad.  Each time I hear the evening news I am reminded of him.  When I am prompted to be generous or caring he comes to mind.  I picture him when I am dancing in my living room, reading a funny joke or eating a bowl of icecream.  I feel him near when I am worried or confused, telling me that things will work out.  I see his blue eyes in my two-year old son.  His legacy of faith and devotion will live on.  Yes dad, even your occasional stubborness is a part of me.  There is not a day that goes by where a glimpse of him is not felt in my life.   Dad is part of who I am forever and for that I am grateful.