Healing my brokenness at the DMV

I went to the DMV yesterday. I had one last thing to do for my Dads passing. He had an old 1989 New Yorker and I inherited it. A perfect car for my teenagers to drive! I really feel that in order for my kids to appreciate a nice car and the blessing it is to have your own wheels, they need to drive a junker.  So this car is perfect.
Dad was a mechanic and quite gifted at making things work. He kept this old girl running for who knows how long....it runs like a top and doesn't have a single hiccup in the engine. However, the gas gauge doesn't work,  the undercarriage is rusted badly and sometimes the doors won't open. Sounds like every car I or my friends drove in the 90's!!
So I took all my paperwork and got in line to switch the title and register this gem of a vehicle. One of the papers is dads death certificate . If you have ever read one of these, it is extremely grounding and humbling. Your life and death stats are printed out like you are a inanimate object. I have an emotional reaction every time I look at his.
His says...cause of death...myocardial infarction  (heart attack)
As a result of...lifetime smoker, alcoholic
These words stab my heart every time. Oh dad, why were you trying to destroy yourself?
So I hand my paperwork to the teller and explain, my dad passed away, this was his car, i need to change the title to my name and renew the registration. The first words put of her mouth are " the first thing you need to do is feel"  she then says " I mean you need to fill out this paper and that paper, why did I say feel? I'm sorry.
I continue on with the paper and paying ridiculous amounts of money that is probably more than the old car is worth and leave the DMV.
When I get back to the road her words come back to me. You need to FEEL. Yes  I do need to feel. I have not, as I expressed in my last post, dealt completely with dads death. Instead, I have been cleaning, scrubbing, making lists, cooking, walking in circles, reading, listening to music, having anxiety attacks, anything to keep from feeling.  I am afraid if I feel the sadness and the loss, it will swallow me. So I numb, I push it down, I work and work until I don't have time to feel. So a 25 minute drive home and I have no escape from my broken heart. I cry, not the heart broken sobbing I need to do, but just tears running down my face and my heart being squeezed. My dad would have so enjoyed my children, if he had been able to beat his addictions and rejoin life. I am broken over his absence in their life. What a great papa he would have been.
It's funny how God will use a stranger, who doesn't even know what she is saying and why to touch my heart. Healing up another broken piece. Thank you random lady at the DMV for your simple words. Thank you Papa for the car. I hope to pass the love of nature and fishing and adventure and the importance of fixing old things to my children, your grandbabies. My youngest looks like you and he thinks like you too. I wish we could have fought your addictions and your were here with us to untangle lines and hook bait. Love you Dad. I am forever with a hole in my heart where you are missing.