My father was my best friend in the world. He died in February 2008. He was not sick although he had attributing ailments. He was a type II diabetic but his A1-C was a 6 that's pretty dam good for a diabetic. He told me he was having chest pain and I raced from work to his house to find he had already call 911. He was awake alert and his vitals were outstanding and then with in minutes he was gone just like that. I had moved the paramedic out of the way as he gasped for his last breaths of air held his hand and told him I loved em. I took the ambulance ride with his lifeless body and begged him to come back but he was gone. It has not gotten any easier my whole world has fallen apart. I have good days and bad ones and find comfort in thinking he is now reunited with his family. I don't know if I've gone thru the stages of dealing with his death. I still talk to him as if he's here. I still go sit in his chair and tell him how my day went. I pour him a glass of Pepsi in hopes the glass will be empty before my eyes. I wake up each morning and hope this was nothing but a nightmare.