All is change. Graduation. Cap and gown. Fulfillment. Emptiness. Uncertainty.

He should have been there.

With my qualifications I can work at the Sleepy's Mattress Store or be a mail carrier.

I dreamt I was in a tornado. I dreamt my mother died. I dreamt I kissed Lynette Scavo from Desperate Housewives. I dreamt I got swept up in a strong wind. I dreamt I was an orphan. I dreamt I was in a tornado, again, again, again.

There are always ghosts. Ghosts on the boardwalk, the Brooklyn Bridge, a song, your room. I see you but you disappear.

The grief weighs me down. The more time that passes, the more real his absence becomes. Seven months later, I'm (finally?) facing my father's death. I'm finally feeling the large, gaping hole and the ambiguity of the future. I don't know any longer what I want to do with my life. Law? Journalism? Diplomacy? Teaching? Novel writing? Poetry? I have the passion and the drive, but I've lost momentum. I don't know where to go from here. School? Work? Stay-at-home daughter? Sigh.

The things I most want to do will likely pay horribly. I'm not obsessed with dollar signs or anything, but I want to live comfortably and work reasonable hours. I've spent hours- days- browsing jobs and opportunities and I've yet to figure out what career will be both personally and financially rewarding. I always knew what I wanted and went for it, but that was easier to do when I was in school and could avoid thinking of practicality.

I'd love to be a Foreign Service Officer, but that means leaving family for years to serve abroad. Can I leave my mom - my everything - for that length of time? And when I get married, can I ask my husband to put his own career goals on hold so he can come with me? I no longer know what I am made of, nor am I certain what I am willing to sacrifice to get ahead.

Can I settle for a normal but happy life or will I be unsatisfied with anything but adventure? But then, what EXACTLY is adventure? I'm SURE there is something in this world that I can love doing, but what?

The grief weighs me down. Grief for Daddy, but also for college. Things were so much simpler when I had a full scholarship, a free dorm, and time to figure out what I was doing. But time wasn't time at all, and it passed so quickly.

For almost half of college, I faced life with a dying father, and it was the most important half, the half where I was meant to decide some big things about life. I was supposed to be interning at newspapers and non-profits when I was home watching movies with my dad or at the hospital holding his hand. It feels as though I've lost everything. So many great opportunities are only open to undergraduates. "Entry-level" jobs still demand experience, but how can I get said experience without having done a single internship? I've had more life experience in two years than many people have had in twenty, but can I put that on a resume? Will my devotion to my family get me hired?

The truth is, I'm afraid. I thought I was qualified for more than fetching coffee or flipping burgers. It was bad enough that I lost my father, but why does it feel like I've lost direction, drive, and appetite for greatness?

I want to do something great, but I need to do it for the right reasons. I won't become great if I only do it to to prove myself. I need to regain the passion I had once. I need to have dreams again.

I feel like I am floating. My fingers and eyes explore the world's possibilities on a computer screen, but then the computer crashes, and the world closes in on me.

I may seem pessimistic, but that isn't it. I'm simply lost.

The death changed me, I suppose. I find it more difficult to connect with people, these days. I feel distant from even my closest friends. I miss them but I don't know what to say to them anymore. When I'm with them, I feel disconnected from their world, their jokes, all that I missed when I was with my family.

But, I WILL find my way, though I won't do it alone. The first step is realizing that I am imperfect, and need a little help every once in a while.