My dad and I were always really close. He and my mom got a divorce when I was little, but it was better for our relationship because I ended up getting to see him more than before. We always had similar tastes in things and I took after him personally wise. I would call him one of my best friends.
I’m 19 now. He missed my birthday this year. I didn’t get a text with old pictures or a “happy birthday, muffin!” this year.
On February 19th, he took his own life at around 7am or so. I heard the shot. I thought it was just the neighbors target practicing out in the field again. It wasn’t. He was found by his fiancée at about 10. She assumed he’d walked over here to hang out and thought nothing of his absence until he’d been gone a little too long.
That was the worst day of my life. It all felt like a horrible nightmare. I knew he had suffered from depression for a long time, but I never thought it would come to this. I know it’s not my fault, but I struggle with blaming myself. Could I have done something?
I was in shock for a couple weeks, but now it’s hitting me hard. Random things will set me off into panic attacks or sobs. I’ll just have a memory of something he did, and then remember that I’ll never see him or hear his voice again.
The last time I talked to him was the night before and we were laughing about fudge. I told him he’d have to come get some because it was free so I wasn’t gonna deliver it to him. He opted to not come get it and now I’m beating myself up for not just running it over- then I would have gotten to see him one more time.
I know he had to have been hurting so much to do this, because the father I knew would never.
It hurts more than I could have even imagined.
