My father died August 2015 at the age of 87 years old after eight long difficult months of gradual decline dotted by four hospitalizations. His heart and kidneys were too weak to continue despite the maximum medical therapy he requested. My support system  - my husband and family, close friends, and a very trusted insightful therapist – has helped me immensely in navigating the waters of my father’s last months.  I started to grieve the loss of my father as I knew him in mid-December last year when he had a big slide in health, however his death of course brought finality to the loss. As I’ve surrendered to and accepted the process of losing one’s father I’ve realized that though his body is gone, his spirit lives on in me and others whose lives he touched as a stained glass artist, a husband, a father, a grandfather, and a friend.  I’ve lost my father but I’ve gained a heightened awareness of who I am because of him. I’ve realized again, and perhaps more strongly now than ever before, that with death or other significant loss or change there can also be significant growth if only one feels, listens, looks, and allows it to be.  And so it is.