So y ea this a memoir of an event ive never shared with anyone before
I was lying in my mom and stepfather's bed watching their tv and
just relaxing during my summer vacation. "fivel Goes West" was on the
tv and i was starring at it blanky day dreaming more then watching it.
My mom called up to me, "sweetie, i have something i need to tell you".
i replied jokingly, "what did i do?", she answerd, "nothing". I asked
"what didn't i do?" she chuckled and replied, "nothing". I was sitting
there wondering, worried and anxious about what was so important to
her, i even got butterflys in my stomach. i replayed anything i had
done in the past month and i couldn't figure out what i could have done
to get a "talk".
My mom came unto the room and sat down on the bed and started to talk to me, i am horrified by what she has to say. "Elliot, daddies dead". the of the butterflys that had inhabited my stomach turned into a series of pains that felt like getting stabbed. That was it, the end of my childhood, my rude awakening into the real world. I could feel my heart sink deep into my chest and the worry i had before turned into disbelief. I couldn't believe it, how could someone so close to me be dead. How could a father leave their child when the child was only 12 years old. My mother kept trying to keep me calm, telling me, "everythings going to be alright". I knew she had no idea how things were going to be, how could she, she had never dealt with anything like this. I calmed down a little and asked "how did it happen?" I was not redy for the answer i got. My mom paused and tried to find the right words, "well he was really sad and wasn't thinking right and..." I stopped her there, i knew what she was going to say next and i didn't want to hear it from her mouth.
I was devastated, but more then that i was confused, i had so many unanswerd questions to solve. Why did he do it? if he really love me, why would he leave me like that? The hardest and most self damaging question i asked my self was, "Is it my fault?" How could it not be, he was always a happy person and i couldn't figure out why he or anyone could do that to themselves. Maybe if I had visited him more, maybe if I said i loved him more, maybe he would be all right. I beat myself up over this question for a long time. After awhile it became more and more clear to me that there was nothing i could have done to stop it and he would be happier if I moved on with my life instead of dwelling on his death for the rest of my life. I still replay that day over and over again in my mind and everytime i see "Fivel Goes West" on tv i'm reminded of him.
All comments welcome good or bad!
My mom came unto the room and sat down on the bed and started to talk to me, i am horrified by what she has to say. "Elliot, daddies dead". the of the butterflys that had inhabited my stomach turned into a series of pains that felt like getting stabbed. That was it, the end of my childhood, my rude awakening into the real world. I could feel my heart sink deep into my chest and the worry i had before turned into disbelief. I couldn't believe it, how could someone so close to me be dead. How could a father leave their child when the child was only 12 years old. My mother kept trying to keep me calm, telling me, "everythings going to be alright". I knew she had no idea how things were going to be, how could she, she had never dealt with anything like this. I calmed down a little and asked "how did it happen?" I was not redy for the answer i got. My mom paused and tried to find the right words, "well he was really sad and wasn't thinking right and..." I stopped her there, i knew what she was going to say next and i didn't want to hear it from her mouth.
I was devastated, but more then that i was confused, i had so many unanswerd questions to solve. Why did he do it? if he really love me, why would he leave me like that? The hardest and most self damaging question i asked my self was, "Is it my fault?" How could it not be, he was always a happy person and i couldn't figure out why he or anyone could do that to themselves. Maybe if I had visited him more, maybe if I said i loved him more, maybe he would be all right. I beat myself up over this question for a long time. After awhile it became more and more clear to me that there was nothing i could have done to stop it and he would be happier if I moved on with my life instead of dwelling on his death for the rest of my life. I still replay that day over and over again in my mind and everytime i see "Fivel Goes West" on tv i'm reminded of him.
All comments welcome good or bad!