What's the most difficult thing you've forgiven?

God has been the hardest "thing" for me to forgive and myself.  I never really knew my Dad.  I knew an alcoholic.  A little over seven years ago he got sick and he went into the hospital.  We went to visit him and he was so thin with a very swollen belly but here was my dad, sober.  Fragile.  I tried so hard not to cry, but when he broke down I couldn't help it.  I had never seen him cry.  This man who had forgotten birthdays and child support checks and suddenly I just wanted him whole and healthy again.  Nothing that he had done mattered in the slightest anymore.  He got out of the hospital, he was done with alcohol for good.  He started to recover and I visited him often.  One night I went after work before I headed home in the mountains he wanted to take me for the world's best Bratwurst and this little place but it was closed, we went back to the house and he wanted to make these pork chops with mangoe and pepper salsa, but it was so late.  I told him next time and I went home.  A few days later he passed.  I was so angry.  I was finally going to get him back.  I finally got to know him a little and God just took him away again.  It was so unfair.  I raged at myself because I didn't stay, I raged at God because he wouldn't let my dad stay.  It has been seven years and while I am not raging it is incredibly difficult to type with these blurry eyes.

Two years and two months to the day later God took my brother.  He was only nineteen.  He had a one year old son, Daigen.  He was in a car accident, killed instantly.  The last time I saw him I had gone to my mothers to help her pack the important belongings she had because a forest fire was getting close to her.  I stayed the night and left early to get back to Denver.  Kurt's car blocked mine and he came out of the garage and just chatted with me for a minute.  When we said goodbye he gave me a great big bear hug and a kiss on the forehead.  He had never done that before.  I remember thinking how special it was to me and how I would never forget it.  A few weeks later  I woke up in the night heartbroken.  I was shattered and I didn't know why.  I got a phone call about 10:30 that day and I don't even remember the drive up the mountain.  At the veiwing we could only see his face.  They had to wrap the rest in a sheet so we couldn't see the damage.  The church his funeral was in was packed and even all the standing room was taken.

All this time later it still feels like yesterday.  I have learned to forgive God and myself but I still cry just as hard.