Sunday, June 10, 2012

For my father

I don't even know how to start this post, or if I will even publish it. Right now, I am hurting. My soul feels like it is crushed and I don't know what else to do but write and cry. This post will be raw, and may contain things you don't want to read. This isn't for you, this is for me, and for me to heal.

3 hours ago I got the news my father killed himself. My Grandfather found him after no one had heard from him in a couple of days.  He had been out of the hospital for one week or so when he opted to end his own life. He died alone in his home, with no one to be there for him. 

I'm angry. I am so mad that he left us and that he took the easy way out instead of fighting like he pushed me to do with everything in my life. I'm angry that I won't ever have another chance to go fishing with him, or go hiking again. I am pissed that my child will never know who he is, and get to learn from him. He robbed me of so much time that I will never get back. I am so angry at the state of mental health care in the US. It shouldn't be so hard to get someone help. It shouldn't be so hard to get solid and consistent treatment. 

But more than angry I am sad. I am sad that I'll never be called Rainy Cloud, and Rainy Bear or Rainy. I'll never get to call him Stinky D, or My D, or any of the other names I have for him. I'm sad I will never have his counsel for when I am in need of fatherly advice. I'll never have another Dad hug, or hear his voice. I never got to hear "I love you" again. I can't even remember if I said "I love you", when I called him this past weekend, I hope I did. I'm sad that my child will never get to meet him and see how amazing he was. 

I am also guilty. I can't help but think, if I had just called like I planned. If I had reached out more often, I could have helped him. I could have saved him from taking his own life. He wouldn't have been alone. Whether that is true or not, It's all I can think of. 

I haven't told my mom. She's not in town. I had to lie and tell her to come home to sign some papers to get him into a home. She's leaving early tomorrow morning and I have to go meet her to give her the news. I have to tell her that her Husband is dead and decide how many of the details to give her. I have to tell her that the man she loved more than anything else is gone, and that she'll never hold him, or tell him she loves him. She's going to be all alone now too. She had hoped so much that he would get better and that they could get back together. 

That's never going to happen. And I am...sad, angry, hurt, lost, you name it. I'm relieved that I don't have to worry about him. I am relieved that he is (hopefully) finally at peace. But I am scared. What if my Mom follows suite?  What would I do if my partner for 36 years died?  I'd lose my shit; probably more than I am now. 

So tomorrow, I head south to go to my dad's home, to start closing out a life that shouldn't have ended so soon and to try to stop a heart from breaking so badly it never comes back. I don't even know where to start with that, or how to fix what is so broken. From there, I head back, and go to a doctors appointment to make sure I am healthy as well. I have no idea how I am going to do all of this.

One day at a time, I guess.

Hold tight to those you love, no matter how hard. Never let a day pass without telling someone how much you love them. You never know when you won't be able to again.

My love to you, always