It's just over 3 weeks since I buried my daddy. Why is it I can put on a brave face to the world but I am hurting so bad inside. I had my daddy for 46 years. It wasn't enough and it never would be, I raised 2 children on my own and no  man could compare to my daddy. He never let me down he wasn't a daddy of words but deeds eg a light bulb needed fixed, a lock needing changed. Even 5 years ago in heavy snow he cleared a pathways to make sure the kids to could get to school. He glued me back together and now I have been left not my his doing but my cancer that took him within 6 weeks of being diagnosed, Even though I could see for 4 months before diagnosing my daddy was ill and his gp refused to agree it was cancer I know it cannot be shown up in blood tests but he gave all his symptons of lung cancer and it was ignored. I was with him each time he went. Weight loss, sickness and shortness of breath with a persistent cough. I am not angry with God but his GP he accepted death as he was a very fit and active man who died 6 days after turning 89. I would not wish the suffering back to him but I see a lack of care in the elderly and it makes me so mad, He was my daddy and my hero. No amount of words can tell me how good a man he was I saw it at his wake and funeral and heard the stories. God has an angel my daddy. It's just Im waiting for a sign he is okay and cannot sleep with tossing and turning worrying if he is okay. My mind feels like it's exploding has anyone else felt this way?