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Goodbye, DaddySep 02 '01 (Updated Sep 08 '01) Write an essay on this topic.
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The Bottom Line If you are a father, do not let your family come second in your life. Live with them, love them, and tell them often that they are your life.
*Note/Disclaimer: This Epinion is very detailed about suicide and death as well as offering up advice on fatherhood. You may not want to read this if you are a bit squeamish. Thanks for reading if you choose to!* My father died last October. If you had read my previous epinions on the subject of death and fatherhood, then you know he committed suicide due to end stage lung cancer. Since then, I have gone through grief that I never imagined possible. It all keeps coming back, and as his birthday approaches and his one-year date is getting closer, my stomach starts to knot up at the thought of how I will handle the days. There are 24 hours in a day, and I take it a minute at a time. September 23 would have been his 68th birthday. When I was young, my dad was a workaholic. He would take his days off and do things with me that we both loved: fishing, baseball games, bowling... we would do them together. Without my mom, and without my only sister. I was my daddy's little girl, and he loved to take me fishing on Saturday mornings. That was my Daddy Time. The topic of fatherhood makes me think of my father. He was not perfect by any means, but he was a wonderful provider--as all fathers should be. He never hurt me in any way, except with words when he was upset with me. He taught me things that I didn't want to learn, but learned anyway. I learned so much from him that I still wish I could call him to ask for advice on things. I miss him terribly. Fatherhood is a blessing for those of us who know what it is like to have a true father. My dad was there for me, through thick and thin, through good times and bad. It breaks my heart to know that there are children and adults out there who don't know anything about their fathers. I don't know where I would be today if I didn't have my dad's guidance and wisdom to help me through. I was not easy to live with, that's for sure. My father used to sneak a peek at my personal journal, or letters I was writing to my friends. He would question me, and I would lie. He saw right through me, but did not punish me in the traditional sense: he just asked Why? And you know what? I had to tell him the truth. That was punishment enough... seeing the look of disapproval on his face. I want my son to have the same kind of father that I had. He knew his grandpop for a little while, and still asks for him. He's 2, but he knows that his Pop-Pop is, and I quote from my son, Working in the sky. My son's father is very dedicated, and he helped me out tremendously with my father's suicide. He's very family-oriented, and loves our son with all of his heart. My son is lucky. So was I. When my father took his own life, he took part of me with him. In a way, I can see his point. He was dying, terribly. His cancer had spread to both lungs, his heart, his chest wall and trachea. He weighed less than I did, and that's saying he was way too thin. He couldn't eat. He was in so much pain that he was living on Vicodin and other pain killers. He was due to start radiation treatments on October 18, but shot himself instead. He did leave a note: It started out, To Everybody that I love...he wanted us to forgive him, that he was in so much pain that he couldn't take it any more. His doctor confirmed that he had maybe 2 or 3 weeks left, even with the radiation treatment. My father, my hero. Dead of a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the abdomen, destroying his liver, lung and heart. Instant death. If anyone knew how to do it, my father did. My point is this: My father loved his family so much, that he wanted to spare us the pain (and himself, as well) of watching him die a horribly painful death. He was neat about his suicide, too: my mother found him in the shower of his bathroom. From what I understand, there was very little blood. My son's father cleaned it up after they took the body away. If you are a father, treat your family like gold. Don't make them regret things left unsaid. I regret so much: Why didn't I call him to wish him luck on the radiation? Why didn't I go see him the evening before it happened? Why didn't I tell him I loved him more? The list goes on and on. As my father's one year death date approaches on October 18, I must get the courage to say goodbye. I have been denying his death for some time: I know it is real. I know it happened. I saw his body, scattered his ashes. I just wish that I didn't have to bid him farewell forever. My dad left a taped journal that I found in my possessions. In it, he reiterates how much his family means to him. And through his tears, he says "Don't grieve for me... know that I'm at peace, happy and healthy. I'll see you in Heaven." Goodbye, Daddy. See you in Heaven. 9/23/33-10/18/00  |
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