After Dad died, we all fell apart. We all dealt with the loss in our own way. My relationship fell apart as well. We went back and forth a few times, but whatever we had was lost. I wasn´t the same person anymore and I can imagine he had no idea at 18 years old, how to support and comfort someone who just lost her Father. He moved out and I stayed in our apartment. I have no memory of the next few years. I´ve tried to remember events, but every time I do, in between 1981 and 1983/half of 84, I just draw a blank. A dark space of time that is empty. I didn´t even have any diaries to look back on. And I couldn´t sing. Or write. Or play the piano. It was too painful.