Lost my father to cancer just before he was to turn 58, 11 years ago. Lost his father a little after he turned 96, just under 2 years ago. I liken it to losing a limb: eventually you learn to walk again, drive a car again, sign a check again, hold a door open while negotiating grocery sacks again. Life goes on. But you're always conscious of the absence. The best advice I can give: don't fight what you're feeling. Let it flow, cry when you need to, sit with it. It will eventually, gradually scab over and you'll gradually be able to smile more often than cry at the memories.