Since my dad decided to take his own life, I have been buried with emotions of sadness, anger, guilt, emptiness. So many different hard to understand feelings. I felt a huge lightness come over me after releasing his ashes on new years eve. But still at times, I find myself overwhelmed with these feelings. I felt guilt for not being there for him as much as I should of after my mom died. I went through alot of my own craziness, twists and turns in relationships, and a general period of mistrust to the point I didn't even want to leave my house. I will always feel I should of hung out with him more, taken him out to do more things. I know I did. I did alot of things with him, but I still feel I could of done more. But at the same time, those few years after my mom died, was the closest I ever became with my dad. Before then, my mom was always the one I would talk to about personal things. And my dad actually became that person. It was a dynamic I never thought I would have with him. We talked on the phone alot, and he would tell me all about the relationships he was 'trying' to have, and I would tell him all about what was going on with me. Ill never forget the ways we were able to open up to each other during those 3 years. I actually got to witness my dad 'finding' himself. He was married to my mom for 26 years, and for the first time he had to learn what life was like alone, and actually face himself, his fears, and his regrets. And at the same time, learn what really made him tick, and what made him come alive. I literally saw him blossom before my eyes. And through the stretch we all had to endure of watching my mom die of cancer, he showed his love nature in the most amazing ways, one of which was hand crafting his own wifes coffin. He was a carpenter, and this was such a monumental moment for him to share his craft in this way. We were all so proud of him for being able to do it.
I will never stop being impressed with my dad. The way he lived his life doing what he loved with his hands. The way he would teach himself how to do something if he had no clue how to do it. His sense of humor. His love for music and friends. His love for his dog Noogs. The things he taught me growing up. His hardworking ways. So many things. I can still hear him calling me 'kiddo' in my mind. He was the only one that called me that. I hope that I can continue having more and more moments of remembering him with a huge smile on my face. I want to get past all feelings of anger and guilt so I can freely communicate with him without those walls Ive built.
