It’s been 13 years ago today since my father’s suicide and my world changed forever.
Even typing that now feels unbelievable, as if it’s somehow detached from my life. Everything that happened? Sometimes I can’t help but feel like it all happened to someone else or happened another lifetime ago. It feels so far removed from my life now. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? I’m not entirely sure.
I also wasn’t entirely sure of what I wanted to say in this post. I was thinking about it all last night — about how I’d NEVER want to go back to my life then — and I kept coming back to the two photos above. I feel like they perfectly capture the essence of the relationship I had with my father. He was a supporter, a protector, a cheerleader, a kind soul, a family man and a fun partner in crime. It didn’t matter if you’d known him your whole life or just met him — he’d always treat you like you were somebody special.
We also came across another family photo album last night, and flipping through the pages was like looking at a highlight reel of his life. Little snapshots from moments in time that added up to stories that added up to his life. I miss him so much — I think of him every day — and in certain moments, I miss even more the fact that we won’t have anymore of those moments. His life was finite. There is a definitive end to his photo album and no more pages will ever be added, no more new moments made and certainly no more new stories to be told and treasured.
Yes, that might be sad — and it’s OK to feel that — but it doesn’t mean that I can’t remember my father and smile today. And that’s just what I’m going to go. Like my mom said, make sure you hug your loved ones tight today and tell them just how much you love them. You just never know when you’ll come to the last page of that photo album, so make memories, cherish moments and most importantly, love deeply and fearlessly… xoxo