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Since my dad passed away, an overwhelming sense of guilt has shadowed my grief. It's a gnawing feeling that seems to touch every memory, especially the moments when I misbehaved or acted out of impatience. I find myself replaying those instances, wishing I could take them back, wondering if he carried any pain from those times.

In my heart, I know my dad loved me unconditionally. He always believed in me, even when I faltered. But this guilt—it's persistent. It's the regret of words spoken in anger, the times I didn't appreciate his wisdom, the moments I took his presence for granted. These memories haunt me, and the weight of my actions feels heavier now that he's gone.

Yet, amid this sea of remorse, there is a glimmer of hope. My dad was a man of immense kindness and understanding. He taught me the importance of forgiveness, both of others and oneself. I hope he can forgive me for those moments of misbehavior. I hope he knows how deeply I loved him, even when my actions didn’t reflect it. I hope he can see the lessons I’ve learned from my mistakes and the way his absence has shaped me into a better person.

I am learning to forgive myself, to honor my dad’s memory by being the person he always believed I could be. It’s a journey, and some days are harder than others. But I strive to live a life that makes him proud, to embody the values he instilled in me.

To anyone feeling a similar guilt, I want to say: allow yourself to feel it, but don’t let it consume you. Hold onto the hope that your loved ones, in their infinite wisdom and love, understand and forgive. Embrace their memory, let it guide you towards becoming a better version of yourself. In time, may we all find peace in the knowledge that love transcends all, even our missteps.