Happy Birthday Daddy 1940-1992

The morning after you killed yourself we went to secure the house. I knew immediately you suffered slowly. Among the papers, trash and clothes I found your lock box. The divorce paperwork to my mother, every card I gave you as a child. I found the pad you were writing on. Your Bible on coffee table, dried tears as you read Job.

The note had 11:30 a.m. written in corner. I could see you called your best friend and the phone number to a suicide line. There were words and a drawing that made no sense. Granny paralyzed, crying, asking why. The house ransacked, not sure anything made sense to her.

Dirty dishes piled high, nothing in refrigerator, how did you live like this, how long? You phoned me several times in the months before your death. Delusional and highly paranoid each time. Someone was tapping your phone, they were trying to get you and the rest I could not understand, you were already gone. As much as I hated you, I cried, begged you not to kill yourself, trying to reason Granny would never be the same. I paid your bills for months. You weren’t in touch with reality.

The outcome will not change if determined. I knew you would take your life and told no-one. I’ve wondered what went through your mind in the hours doodling to writing the note, then killing yourself. I received the call at 10:00 p.m. Gramps said your dad has done away with himself. I called right back to see if you were dead or going to hospital.

The boxes of cassettes were next to your bed, taking months to listen to. You were mentally ill, not under care, no medications. Your temper went 1-10 in seconds, obnoxious, loud, racist, screaming, out of control.

I think of you one day a year.

M

 

38 Comments »

  1. This was a powerful piece of writing, M. I’m so glad you shared this. I am happy for you that you only think of him once a year, and I think I understand your compassion for your much-loved grandmother. Hugs to you, as always.

    Liked by 2 people

    • I new you would understand the pain felt for Granny. My anger was directed at what he did to Granny. Her life was missing a piece. I forgave, not forgot, I had to move forward. I understand his mental illness well since I have the same. Hope you’re well and enjoying the weather.
      Hugs

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Mental health is such a grey area, even with all the recent medical advances. Stunningly raw yet elegant writing – the kind of stuff which only comes from unspeakable suffering and life experiences. Kudos to you for this.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. This was so difficult to read. I don’t know why you hated your daddy but no matter how the final sleep comes, it’s always difficult, I think.
    I hated my mother and although she didn’t leave the way your father did. It still left a hole in me.
    How poignant the statement that you think of him one day a year. I would imagine that truthfully, you think of him more often.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. That kind of abuse is not something to shake off .In the background if is always there, something black where the rays of the sun do not have an effect. It is good to talk, but not easy to do so and few want to hear. Reading this was a help to me. Thank you.

    Liked by 1 person

    • He was on of my abusers, knew lots of answers. I forgave not forgetting and moved forward without him in my life. The heart knew I still loved him or I would not have cried and begged him so hard.
      Nothing on the tapes, a couple of short conversations from my dad’s side. He was out of touch and delusional.
      God has the answer.
      Thanks for leaving the comment. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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