The endless questions

So. My father died last year on April 13th. Some of you may know the story and some may not. All I know is it doesn't seem like a whole year has passed. I am still not sure what to feel. I'm certainly not writing for the sympathy. I never really knew him and what I knew I hated for so long. But...at the end of it all, I'm left with this numbness. This not knowing if my lifetime of emotions and pain over him was mispent. I wonder if I could have been different, or been healed of the hurt long ago if I had just forgiven him earlier. I don't know...I won't ever. When someone dies and you never had a chance to work out all of the "kinks"...then what. It's like a puzzle with a missing piece you can never have back. There will always be this unanswered question for me. I'm not saying I made the wrong choices. I don't regret who I am or what I have chosen to feel....I know that God, my true and only real father knows my heart. But...sometimes I think if I had adored him and could truly just mourn him it would hurt less.