Before I was nine years old there were good memories and those are the ones I chose to hang onto.
We would go to the local store and buy RC Cola’s and drink in the parking lot singing to the radio, belting out Charlie Pride Kiss An Angel Good Morning, then taking our bottles back in for our 10 cent deposit.
You taught me how to ride my bike at four years old. I remember looking back with pride right before running into the telephone pole.
You would play Hank Williams Sr. and Elvis Presley on the record player and we would dance the night away.
You worked extra jobs when I was little and you would come home very late from the grocery store with sacks of dented can goods. I would help you put them away in the pantry.
I’m sure there are other memories that have been lost in time, or I hope there are.
The rest of the memories get very dark as you fall deeper and deeper into Mental Illness and took your life by suicide at age 52.
I hope you are at peace.
Melinda
lookingforthelight.blog 
Aww this is a beautiful tribute, especially as it can’t be easy not letting the darker days dominate your feelings. You made me chuckle at going into a telephone pole. I’m glad it’s not just me who’s done that (a few times).
Happy Birthday to your daddy, who will surely be looking down on you with pride & a great big smile for those better-days memories 💜🌹 xxxx
Thank you, Caz. Get ready for some eye-opening posts next month for Suicide Awareness Month.
Now that he’s gone, it’s healthy to focus on the good memories. He had strengths.
He did. He was a very hard working and he did love me even in the end.
❤
I am so sorry.
At least there are good memories even if they are from when I was very little. My father was Bipolar, it’s didn’t really come out until right before he died but I knew something was wrong as a teen. We all have our bagage.