It’s been six years today since Dad died, and not a day goes by that I don’t think about him, and that he isn’t part of my life in some way, that I don’t ask him for his opinion, and maybe, as ever, disregard it, or that there’s something that I know would interest him or make him laugh, and I talk to him about it.. I’m not mad. You don’t just lose someone whose presence has been so strong in your life when they die. He’s still with me.