Pain. No, not the "I did my long run yesterday and now I can't walk upright" pain, but the loss of a father pain. This week marked the 13 year anniversary since he passed away. I recently asked my mom to send me a copy of her favorite picture of my dad. It arrived yesterday and I immediately started sobbing when I looked at it. I love what TNT does for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, I just didn't realize that so much would come back up to the surface by becoming a part of one of their groups. Everything seems fresh, and the noise I mentioned the other day has faded in to the background, and the pain is so sharp. It really hurts, dammit. It seriously sucks. I'll keep pushing on, though, even when it's a struggle. Quitting won't bring him back and it won't make this hurt less. I'm just having a meltdown today, and I miss my Daddy.