The death of my biological father, Oscar, when I was 11 years old was a horrible time. My twin and I had been adopted by his parents (at age 2) because he could not care for us...although he visited often - he moved to NYC after our biological mother abandoned us.
Our grandmother, his mom who was raising us, died four years later on our 16th birthday of a massive stroke. She was never able to cope with losing her son (our father). My sister and I never got to celebrate our sweet sixteenth year of life...our grandfather was difficult, blamed us for her death, said, "you drove your grandmother to her grave"...that was very traumatic because she had high blood pressure and teens are not easy to raise.
Yet he loved us, and we lost him to cancer when we were 28. To this day I miss my dad so much. The Christmas before he was found dead in his apartment in NYC, he gave each of us a white teddy bear with a $50 bill tied around its neck with a ribbon. I still have that bear and I often hug it and weep. I loved my dad so much, but knew him so little, and have very few photos of him which I cherish.
Thanks for the question...a difficult one to answer, but the truth. God bless, Sparklea