I lost my dad four months ago today. I'd moved back in with my parents a year and 9 months prior to save for a mortgage and because I saw them every day it was easy to take them for granted. My dad loved having me back home but I didn't spend much quality time with him, preferring to go out and do my own thing. I was out at a party the night he had a sudden brain haemorrhage. I rushed to the hospital as soon as my mum called, but it was too late. He stayed in a coma for 4 nights, until the doctors decided to start end of life care. He disappeared so suddenly. One minute he was lying in the bed as though he were asleep and the next he'd gone. Then a few weeks later, after I'd sorted out paperwork for my mum, written the eulogy and organised the funeral, I got back on with my life. I haven't cried much since then, I've just pushed my dad's death to the back of my mind, but today is four months exactly and it's all come flooding back. I feel guilty for enjoying life, guilty for not giving him enough of my time whilst he was still here and so sad that I don't have him anymore. Even the sadness is tinged with guilt because I know I'm sad because he's going to miss some really important mile stones in my life. He was only 74. I thought we had more time.