Today I looked out the window and the sun was shining.

I feel as if I’ve awoken from a deep sleep. Last week was a blizzard of emotion, and now I am shoveling my way out so I can decide what path to take.  It was critical for me to stay in the moment as this drama unfolded. It allowed me to be still and feel strong so I could make choices that I would have to live with for the rest of my life. I am now starting to feel the layers of the aftermath as they define themselves.

In some ways, my dad made his death very easy, long before he passed. I am often accused of being an eternal optimist.

Several years ago, in an email to my mom, he requested all of the grandchildren’s social security numbers. She thought he might be doing something good, and was hopeful for his spiritual redemption. At that time, my dad asked my brother-in-law, an attorney, to be the executor of his will.

Since it seemed there would be some impact, he accepted this role, even though there had been no contact for years. About a week later, my dad forwarded a copy of his will to my sister’s husband. In it, he excluded me, my sister, and all four of our children by name and social security numbers.

Some people might have chosen to die and let this be their final zinger but he must have wanted to savor the sting it would cause while he was alive and well. Money was always his weapon of choice.

Why else would he inform us? We were amazed and not at all shocked.

The surprise for me is that I now see this act as a gift. If he had left money to me, I am sure I would have felt conflicted about accepting it and if I did, I would have had to think long and hard about what to do with it to make it feel okay.

On the other hand, if he designated money to my children, I could have justified that as payback in some way. Often I have felt he owed us, but money wouldn’t pay that check for me.

When I told him in the hospital I wanted nothing from him, it was true. I knew I was getting nothing from him and this made things authentic. I knew that whatever I said in that ICU room was purely for me and for him at that moment, which I will carry with me forever.

There would be no last-minute will changes, no prizes, no payday. The scenario I face as his next of kin is very similar to the conditions of our relationship.

He made the rules, he acted out and I get to interpret and translate his actions into something I can make sense out of. My senior high school yearbook quote was, “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.”

One day last week I was weeping and aching at the idea that any human being should die alone. A dear friend of mine gently reminded me that my dad would die the way he chose to live, away from his family. This was one of the most tragic aspects of his passing for me. I just couldn’t wrap my arms around it. I am comforted in knowing that he never opened his eyes again after our visit. And while I think my dad left this world believing he left me nothing, he made me rich beyond measure.

It is because of him that I love without conditions. Because of him, I chose to share my life with a man who makes me laugh every day. His true legacy is that my children know that they are loved every minute of every day. Whether it’s because of him or in spite of him, he was the inspiration for my actions and in that the value is in no way diminished for me. I choose to believe that he taught me some of the most profound lessons of my life. And so I am grateful for exactly what he left me.