I still shake the image out of my head. I won't allow myself to watch him put the gun in his mouth, though when it slips pass my consciousness my heart feels as though its going to rip into two. I wonder if he was certain or afraid. Though I know the alcohol had altered his state of mind, I also know that he was a high functioning drunk. It seems to me like he tried to escape reality with his drinking, but it had the adverse effects-actually making him more clearly aware of his emotions, both the good and the bad. So I'll never know his true intentions. Did he really mean to end his life?
I once consoled a friend who had lost her mother to an overdose-"she didn't mean it, it was a mistake that went too far" and ask myself if I believe that about my dad's suicide. After he came back from Iraq he was in the worst shape I've ever seen him. He was on suicide watch by the local police and was admitted to the VA hospital for a time. I regret feeling ashamed that war had effected him so much. He made a comment during that time period that maybe he wasn't strong enough because the war haunted him...and regrettably I agreed with him in my head. When my father in law heard what happened to my dad the first words out of his mouth were, "He's a causality of the Iraq War." He had seen glimpses of the state he was in after returning home.
I've been told that once someone decides to end their own life its not a matter of if, but when. Its like when you are rock climbing and your foot slips-you meant to push yourself up, but instead your slip has drastic effects on your life and on those who love you. I've heard a number of stories that precede the actual act with, "but they were doing so much better..." and my dad was. He had remarried and I truly believe he was happy. I had seen him just two days prior when he came over and had lunch with me and the kids. We made plans to go camping in a couple months and I even put it on my calendar. There was nothing odd or out of place. But once I recieved the phone call I was shocked, but not totally surprised...and brokenhearted.
To commemorate my dad's birthday tonight I made my great-grandma Eva's homemade mac & cheese. We had mac & cheese with my dad the last time we saw him and this recipe was a standard in my home growing up and one of his favorites.
Something that I inherited from my dad was a love for food and cooking. There were many times that I gave him a gift for Christmas or his birthday that I actually would have loved to have myself. I remember making this mac & cheese with him when I was a child. The bread crisps up beautifully and the bechamel sauce soothes my soul with its creaminess. I added some spinach to serve as nutritional value and had the kids help me put the bread on just like I did when I was younger. We talked a little bit about Papa at the dinner table and though its still hard and I miss him, I'll always have this mac & cheese to remember him by.
