My dad has been gone five years

I'll never forget the phone call telling me my dad was gone.  In spite of having been ill for 17 years, it was such a shock.  I had talked to my mom earlier that day, and she told me what a great day my dad had been having, and that he had been up and moving around more than he had in quite some time.  I'll always be grateful his last day on Earth was spent that way.  I'm grateful he didn't die in a hospital, and I'm grateful there was never the decision about having to put him in a nursing facility.  These are all blessings.

Five years is hitting me like a ton of bricks though.  Five years.  Five years.  How did five years go by so quickly?  It isn't just about missing my dad.  It's that there are five fewer years left in my life, and the lives of everyone I know.  I recognize that is overly dramatic.  But five years ago, I didn't have any kids in high school and my youngest was in fourth grade.  Now, my youngest is in high school and my oldest has flown the nest.  With schedules, it's often tough to find time even for the four of us to just hang out and do family things.  In another five years, none of my children will be students here anymore, and Catherine could be nearing the end of her schooling altogether.

I'm super emotional about all of this, I'm not going to lie.  I don't like the fact that there has been five years of memories...five years of full days without my dad.  I know that time marches on, but right now I feel like it is marching right across my heart.