Today is a tough day for me. I don’t recognize it right away; I put it aside in my mind, hoping the day will be different, but my subconscious knows and it causes me frustration. This is the day, 12 years ago, my dad decided to die. I know that sounds horrible, but it’s the truth. My dad ended his own life and it’s the most painful time I’ve ever lived through in my life.
My mom had a stroke two weeks before this day and my poor dad spiralled down quickly to a dark place. I spoke with him the day before and he said – don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. That evening when I tried to call him he didn’t answer. Something deep inside me already knew….I don’t know why, I just knew.
After the shock of the news sank in, the tears came. More tears than I ever thought possible. I cried until I was so empty inside, and then I cried some more.
The years have lessened the pain and there are less tears; but this day is still a struggle. A friend told me she thinks of my parents story as a love story. Maybe she’s right, kind of a Romeo and Juliet story.
I decided to ride my bike into the country and spend some time in the place my dad liked the most. While I was riding, I thought about my dad, had a few tears and then the smell of cow poop wafted by….seriously, no cows to be seen in the fields yet there was the smell. I smiled, knowing dad was busting a gut laughing because he sent that smell to me as a remembrance!