I just found out that my father passed away. Not recently, he passed away on New Year's Eve. Yes, as you search your mental calender, you are realizing that is five months ago. And I found out today.

My brother and I have been living the life of fatherless adults for years now. We knew where to find him, as he knew where to find us. Yet no one sought a relationship. The last time we'd visited with him, it was because a friend of his told my mother my father had had a stroke.

Again we'd gotten the news very late, but when we were told we went straight to his apartment. It had been over a year since the stroke but the damage was evident. We watched as he tried to spoon feed himself chocolate cake; his hand shaking like Ali when he carried the Olympic Torch. I decided then, that I didn't want to see him like that again. The father I remember was strong, warm, and loving. The one I saw that day, years ago, couldn't even speak a coherent sentence.

Was I wrong for wanting to remember him my way? Will I regret it now that I know he's gone? To be honest, I don't know much of anything right now. I thought writing would clarify my feelings. I still feel hollow. There has been a piece of me missing since my mom and dad went their separate ways. This just feels like confirmation.