I know I say this every year, but time really is a weird thing! It’s the only thing I know that can feel both long and short at the same time — years somehow never feel like just years in the literal sense, which is something I’m continually grappling with in an effort to. So when I think about how last week marked 18 years since my father died from suicide, my mind still can’t comprehend how much time that feels like because it actually feels like a long time and like it just happened yesterday.
I’ve thought a lot about the passing of time and how you experience that time after a loved one dies from suicide; maybe I’ve even spent too much time thinking about it sometimes? All I know is that maybe time feels weird because a part of you never really left the moment your loved one died. Although I’m physically here in 2021, there’s still a part of me that never left March 10th, 2003. There’s still a part of me that’s the scared, frightened 21-year-old who doesn’t know how she’ll go on living without her father and just can’t believe that any of this is real.
It’s sort of like living in two parallel universes and something tells me that it will always be that way. But maybe that’s not necessarily a bad thing? Maybe it’s not so bad to “walk between” these two worlds, to have one foot in the past and one in the present — it’s a way to link the two perhaps? At the very least, I can’t help but feel like it’s a way to keep my dad with me, which is all I’ve ever wanted since the day he died.
And speaking of keeping him with me, something interesting happened last week. I’m usually not one to believe in signs, but last night, a drawing of my dad and me fell down! This beautiful illustration was given to me by the talented artist Brooke Costello and I love it because it feels like a part of my dad is still with me whenever I look at it.
I guess what I’m trying to say is this: If you’re somehow looking down on us, Dad, I hope you’re proud of the people we’ve become!! We miss you every day and wish you were here with us…