:(
on june 11th, my sister called me and was screaming into the phone, bawling, and i couldnt understand a thing she was saying besides "dad did it, dad did it, oh my god, he did it" i immediately started bawling. my dad killed himself. im bawling as im typing this right now. i still cant believe its true. but here are the things i know about it. my little sister, lena, who is 9, found his suicide note about a week before he did it and she read it and was crying to him and asking him why he would want to do that to himself and begged him to not take himself away from her and he promised he never would. police confiscated the note and no one got to read it but my baby sister. i cant write about this in a way that is cohesive. we had our dog, chance, for as long as i can remember. he was atleast 15 and im 19 so that is basically my whole life. well, 3 days before my dad killed himself he accidentally ran chance over and buried him out on the field with huge stones arranged in a cross. 3 days later he killed himself right ontop of chance's grave. i just picture my dad being so lonely, i know that our dog was his best friend, and i honestly feel like when my dad ran him over, he felt like he had no other friends left. his girlfriend marilyn said shes never seen someone so affected by the loss of a pet. my dad lived out there alone with her, in the middle of nowhere with no friends. it breaks my heart to know that my dad spent his last minutes alone on top of chances grave. i still wonder what was bad enough to make him want to do that. my little sister lena was his world and she loved him to death and wanted to be just like him. marilyn knew he left the house with a gun and a threat and she didnt even go to fucking look for him for hours. my dad shot himself in the chest. he could have bled to death out there by his goddamn self, i just hope it was instant. we got a bag of all the things he had on him when he died: his black comb that he never went anywhere without, 2 rings, a necklace and a pocketknife. i knew which ring i wanted, i helped him pick it out, he wore it every day, i always told him that one day i wanted it. i took it out of the bag and it was lined with dry blood. i put it on just like that, the blood is still there, i look at it every day. my dad wanted to be cremated. they wouldnt let me see his body before they did it. the last time i saw him was december. i screamed and cried when they told me i couldnt see him. all thats left of my dad is a safe full of rings and pocket knives. a trashbag of clothes. memories.
it kills me.
his service was so fucking sad. my sister and i walked into the roof full of empty pews to go arrange old photographs we'd found. we both fell to our knees and couldnt do anything but cry. i sill cant believe its real. all of my friends came, all of my dads old friends, my uncle and grandma drove down from jersey. it was so nice to see them all but under such terrible circumstances. i tried not to lose it during the service but lena was sitting in the pew right across the aisle from me and as soon as our eyes met and i saw her crying, i started bawling. i told her that she was his favorite, that it wasnt her fault, that dad loved her more than he loved anyone or anything in this world, and i know thats true. she was the apple of his eye.
it kills me that he was planning it, there is evidence he was. he called me about 2 weeks before it happened and said he came into a little bit of money and wanted to send me some. he did the same thing with my sister hayley. usually he tries to keep me on the phone but he just kept saying he had to go no matter how much i tried to talk to him. i kills me that ill never get to hear his voice again. i still cant believe it is real.
i stayed in town for 6 days. i had one seriously bad day where i was just.. my body was in shock. i would talk to my sister and then 5 minutes later have no recollection that we talked. she called me and told me the same things over and over and i never remembered. i didnt eat, i didnt sleep. every time i think about him i try really hard to repress it so i dont cry. im glad im writing this and allowing myself to think about it, cry about it, get it out. but i still cant believe it it real. no matter what i do, i cant get the picture out of my head of my lonely, frail father standing on top of chance's grave, spending his last minutes alone. what was going through his head? i picture him lying there, staring up at the empty blue sky, taking his last breaths. did he think of me? of lena? hayley? what was he thinking? why? why? why?! and i still cant believe this is real.
it kills me.
his service was so fucking sad. my sister and i walked into the roof full of empty pews to go arrange old photographs we'd found. we both fell to our knees and couldnt do anything but cry. i sill cant believe its real. all of my friends came, all of my dads old friends, my uncle and grandma drove down from jersey. it was so nice to see them all but under such terrible circumstances. i tried not to lose it during the service but lena was sitting in the pew right across the aisle from me and as soon as our eyes met and i saw her crying, i started bawling. i told her that she was his favorite, that it wasnt her fault, that dad loved her more than he loved anyone or anything in this world, and i know thats true. she was the apple of his eye.
it kills me that he was planning it, there is evidence he was. he called me about 2 weeks before it happened and said he came into a little bit of money and wanted to send me some. he did the same thing with my sister hayley. usually he tries to keep me on the phone but he just kept saying he had to go no matter how much i tried to talk to him. i kills me that ill never get to hear his voice again. i still cant believe it is real.
i stayed in town for 6 days. i had one seriously bad day where i was just.. my body was in shock. i would talk to my sister and then 5 minutes later have no recollection that we talked. she called me and told me the same things over and over and i never remembered. i didnt eat, i didnt sleep. every time i think about him i try really hard to repress it so i dont cry. im glad im writing this and allowing myself to think about it, cry about it, get it out. but i still cant believe it it real. no matter what i do, i cant get the picture out of my head of my lonely, frail father standing on top of chance's grave, spending his last minutes alone. what was going through his head? i picture him lying there, staring up at the empty blue sky, taking his last breaths. did he think of me? of lena? hayley? what was he thinking? why? why? why?! and i still cant believe this is real.