Wednesday, April 15, 2009

So far away and yet...

This is a photocomposition I did with my father’s urn not long after his ashes were given to us. You can see his hat, which he wore the day he died, a rose that was on his coffin and the bullet that went thru him.

It’s going to be ten years on Friday since the day he took his pain away and left us.
I’m not going to pretend, to hide facts or even to condone what he did because it was his decision and despite my hurt, I will always respect his choice. It was his to make. If you think one has to be a coward, I’d say you’re wrong. If you think one has to be selfish, I’d say maybe, but then again, what’s more selfish: keeping someone here who doesn’t want to be or deciding to leave because you want out? Honestly, I don’t really know. I don’t really care either. He was my father, and I saw him suffering, turning into something that wasn’t my dad. I wanted his pain to stop and selfishly also wanted our pain to go away as well. It wasn’t a healthy situation. He knew what he was about to do; he prepared us, even if we weren’t always receptive to his pleas. He wasn’t crazy, that much I know. At least, not in the way we think of “crazy”. He wasn’t well and wasn’t being followed correctly by the medical system. He played the game because he was done. He told doctors what they wanted to hear, he acted the way people thought he should until that morning of April 17th, 1999.

Not a day goes by without me having a thought for him or about him. I still see his face very clearly, the last time I held it into my hands. Sadness was oozing from his eyes. It was as easy to see it as it is to see a raw skid mark after a nasty fall. He looked so fragile, and yet he was strong enough to pull that trigger.

I wish I still had my old man. I miss hearing him. It’s hard to think it’s been over ten years since I last heard him call my name.

I hope, wherever he ended up, he’s feeling better by now and that he managed to let go of his guilt and fears. May he find peace & always know despite everything he was loved.

May you rest in peace, Dad.


Traceytreasure said...

I used to think that it was a selfish way out. I'm beginning to realize that it's a sort of desperation that makes people end their lives that way. This hits me close to home because of my uncle and my neighbor just last week. His wife thought he was having a good day that day.
I hope they are all at peace with your Dad. I hope your hurts have healed.
Wish I could give you a real hug!

kara said...

that was a beautiful tribute.

janes insane said...

I am sure your dad is at peace now. I agree with you about suicide, it may be selfish, but if someone is in that much pain... physically or psychologically...who are we to judge? We are not walking in their shoes.
My brother, who also suffers from depression, and I once had a talk about suicide. We both agreed we didn't have the strength to commit suicide. I don't say that to call anyone a coward, but am speaking from my own experience. This subject seems taboo, but I believe the real truth is, when someone gets to that point and chooses to take their life, it takes STRENGTH.
My heart goes out to you. Seeing his belongings somehow seems to bring him to life. I think he must have known your love for one another would not cease.
Bless you for understanding your dad & although you wanted him here forever, understanding his pain was too much to bear. You 2 are remarkable souls.

Seeker said...

It is for God alone to judge. Our obligation is just to accept..... and to love no matter what!

May your dad rest in peace.

Marius said...

If we were in the same room I would pour us both a drink, and raise it in silent tribute to those who have left us.

Nicotine Jones said...

Belatedly by 10 years, so sorry for your loss.

flurrious said...

Just yesterday, I read this passage and it made me think of my own dad. I lost him eight years ago, and as it is with you and your father, I think about him every day.

"Listening to her speak, I began to realize that two of the three sisters she'd mentioned had actually died at birth, but that in this woman's mind they had remained with her always, spirits with names and ages and characters, two sisters who accompanied her while she walked to school or did chores, who soothed her cries and calmed her fears. For this woman, family had never been a vessel just for the living. The dead, too, had their claims, their voices shaping the course of her dreams."
   -- Barack Obama, Dreams from My Father

lizgwiz said...

I wish you still had your dad, too. But I'm sure that wherever he is, he knows that you're thinking about him and wishing him peace, and he's doing the same for you.


Anonymous said...

You are in my thoughts today. Much love- xox0

Charlie said...

A wonderful but painful tribute, and you brought tears to my eyes.

Periwinkle Studio said...

Thank you for sharing your heart with us. It was beautiful.
I am sure he is in a better place and in no more pain. I really wish I could give you a hug. :)

Stinkypaw said...

Traceyt: Today I'd welcome that real hug.

kara: Thanks.

janes: I agree, it takes courage and strenght thru the despair to go thru with it. Thanks for the kind words.

Seeker: Thank you.

Marius: Cheers mate!

Nicotine: Thanks.

flurrious: Nice passage, thank you for sharring. And I couldn't help to think "Bush could never write something like that" Hee.

lizgwiz: Thanks, I'm hoping he now knows...

Monkey: Thanks.

Charlie: Sorry about that. :-)

Periwinkle: Ditto!

pawpads said...

Oh I had no idea. I'm so sorry for your loss.

The things that you wrote about your Dad speaks volumes about your feelings for him.

Just a grail said...

I am sorry for the loss of your dad, he sounded like a wonderful, kind, strong man.

Anonymous said...

My father passed away a little over 15 years ago and I always regret that we didn't talk for the last 3 years before he died.

This was really beautiful. Thank you for sharing it with us.