Once the initial shock of my father's death had worn off, I found myself doing something I hadn’t done since high school; writing poetry. Giving myself permission to put pen to paper without judgement, without a goal, to turn off my brain and let whatever was swirling inside me out onto the page. I wrote this in the weeks following my dad’s passing. Simple, honest, and strangely it made me feel better. It can be so healing to see something tangible come from grief.