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My life forever changed three years ago with the death of my father. Not only did I lose a parent, I also lost the foundation in my belief in many things.

While many people find solace in the church and in their faith, I have not been able to do the same. It’s been the exact opposite. It’s not because I did not believe. It’s because I can’t. And that perplexes many. Why?

The world that I knew is no longer. It’s not as if my father died because of a long illness. He was in remission of cancer. He went through chemotherapy and came out on the other side. I have grappled with that never-ending anguish and heartache of this unfathomable death each day.

Is there something magical about attending church that will bring my father back? Make the pain seem less? Help me understand why his life on earth was snatched away that early January morning?

I have encountered people including in my own family that have had the nerve to tell me that my father’s death was part of God’s plan. Without becoming ignorant, I just look at them in complete disbelief with my head cocked to the side. I just want to say, “Seriously?”

I have also encountered people who are impatient because I still continue to grieve and not wanting to attend any type of Sunday morning ritual, as if I am on a clock and there’s a countdown to normalcy.

I don’t wish ill or harm to others, but do realize that their lives and thoughts will change when they get a call or a knock on the door with the ultimate bad news.

I do my best not to be insensitive to people while being unapologetic because I now live in a world with no rules and I do things that I never thought about doing before. I also see things I never noticed before.

When you go through this kind of ordeal, you react in a variety of ways. I watch a movie, hear a song or like last night watched a PBS special on the Motown Sound and I am taken back to the days when I was a child with my parents who loved music. Our house was always filled with music from Stevie Wonder, Diana Ross and the Supremes, The Commodores, Temptations, Four Tops, Gladys Knight and the Pips to the Jackson 5. Sometimes I just recall something nice or read about another death and tears well up in my eyes.

I’ve often stopped to think about the last things I said to my father and when they were. That’s just it. It tugs on the deepness of your being. This death more than others has made me think about life in a different way.

My world is different. I’m not sure it will ever be the same.