I miss my dad every second of every day, I can't stop thinking about him...so here's our story, from my perspective. Writing it all down helps me cope with what still seems to be a dream.
Run.
After a a pretty normal summer day with my friend's, around 5 o'clock I got a call from my brother asking why there were cop cars at our house, and immediately my stomach dropped. Without hesitating I jumped in my car and I drove the fastest I have ever driven in my entire life. I turned the corner of my street to see that the road was completely blocked on both sides by about 8 cop cars, and there was an ambulance in our driveway. I put my car in park, and ran. I ran so hard I ran right out of my shoes, and threw my keys. Nothing was going to prepare me for what I was about to hear.
Cry.
My mom was laying there in the hospital bed and the only thing that was repeating over and over again in my head were the words "Thank you God." That's the only thing I could think of while holding my mom's hand, not believing the situation that was unraveling.
I was sitting in the waiting room in the hospital after seeing the result of the most devastating act of desperation I've ever seen, when the social worker entered the room. My grandparents sat my brother and I down to tell us that they found our father, dead in his car. My brother and I cried for a long, long time. As soon as they told us he was dead, from that moment on, his face never left my mind. Images of us on the boat in Maine, parasailing in florida, opening presents on christmas morning, etc...were racing through my head and haven't stopped to this day.
Dream.
One of the worst parts of this situation is not being able to sleep. My body literally fights me to fall asleep because it knows I have to wake up in the morning and relive this nightmare every single day. When I do get a few hours of sleep I dream the most realistic dreams. One dream I had was of my dad and I and we were on the dock in Maine, and everything was dark, except my dad, me and the lake were all glowing and sparkling. My dad and I always were joking around, punching each other, pushing each other off the dock, and my dream was exactly that, just like we used to be. Then finally he wrapped me in a big hug, the kind of hug you always remember.
Anger.
Why? Why why why why why why why. That word pierces my mind every second of every day. I don't understand why he felt like there was no other way out.
Why did you do this to yourself? Why did you do this to your family? I still need you. I need you every day, and you're not there.
I constantly re-think every conversation I've ever had with him, kicking myself for every fight we had, and for every time I got annoyed with him, just wishing and praying to God to let me be with him for just one more day.
Regret.
If I could relive the day before his death all over again I would tell him so many things. How great of a dad he is, how much I appreciate everything he does for us...and I would give him a big hug and tell him how much I love him and how much I need him in my life.
Two weeks before his death I moved out of our house, I couldn't live there anymore for a few reasons. Mostly because my dad just wasn't himself anymore and him and my mom always fighting made the atmosphere extremely tense. Besides a few texts here and there, my dad and I did not speak for the entire two weeks before his death. It's like something from a movie... or one of those cheesy "say how you feel because you never know what tomorrow will bring" quotes, right? Well my life has become just that, a sick and twisted movie. I regret every second of those two weeks I spent not speaking to my father.
I never thought it was possible to miss somebody this much, so much to the point where it actually physically hurts inside. I have nothing but the best memories of my dad while growing up, and he really was the best father anyone could ask for. I dread the day of my wedding, when I know all I'm going to be thinking about is how much I wish he was here to walk me down the aisle, I dread the day I graduate college, because I know how proud he would have been and I know he would have been sitting right there in the front row...But most of all I dread the inevitable up-hill journey I'm about to embark on, knowing that he's never coming back.
