Grateful for the Busy, But...

Luckily I'm busy with my new hour and a half one way commute to work, teaching school, our trip, and our home improvement so there isn't much time for dwelling on yesterday. Yesterday was the one year anniversary of my Father's suicide. However, if I hesitate to move quickly from one task to the other the pain finds me. I don't want to complain, simply acknowledge it so I can deal. This is how I've chosen to do it, so please understand that it's just something I need to get out.

I know it's normal to feel this way especially at one year. The memories of one year ago have been filling up my mind. How my Dad showed up Graduation day thinking he had missed my ceremony, but had been early, because he wouldn't answer his phone to talk with me so I could clarify the time with him. Then I couldn't get him to stay for the actual ceremony. Although, it wasn't my fault, I still feel badly about it, and it makes my heart ache. When he showed up at my house he looked bad for Dad, but he had a single rose for me. It was an orange rose. Simple as it was it was the most cherished gift because it came from him. Gestures like that weren't as often as when I was a child. He had acknowledge his love for me. I knew he loved me, but not very often did he show it, like other fathers. I always knew he loved me though. I watched the rose blossom and then slowly die. I remember watching the rose and thinking, "It's like Dad so beautiful, but it's fading and I can't stop it."

It's weird how the Lord prepared me and my siblings. All of us had premonitions at least a year in advance, although we all had hoped they were just crazy thoughts. The night I got the phone call from Mom letting me know Dad had taken his own life, the Lord was with me and Aaron. At the time I didn't realize it. We were on our way home to Logan, and randomly decided to stop at his parents. I remember being antsy to get home, because it was getting late. Each time I got that feeling something whispered to me that there was no hurry, and stay put. Although the news left me and everyone who witnessed my sorrow traumatized, it was a huge blessing to be in a home where we knew we were loved. In a home where the Priesthood was present so I could receive a blessing right away.

I never thought that I would be strong enough to speak at his funeral, and at the first suggesting of it I just shook my head and bawled. But, I did. It brought a peace to know I could respect him like that. I also played a simple fiddling melody that captured the sadness in all of us for Dad. It was an extremely sad day. My Father was a good, kind, and loyal friend. But he had great big demons in his life. He was too prideful to see things as they really were, to ask for help, or to take responsibility for his choices and his life. We all have problems and demons, but all of this combined with alcohol addiction and depression lead to his death.

The months that followed were a constant remind of our loss as we went through his house, and discovered how terrible things really were in his life. With time comes healing though. 6 months after my Father had passed away Aaron and I were with Rachael and Tyler waiting for a table at a restaurant when a George Strait song came on. I was sure I would have to run into the parking lot to hide my tears, but I just wept a little so it wasn't super noticeable. George was my Dad's favorite! Every morning I spent with him I would wake up to the smell of a greasy breakfast and the sound of George's voice. Well, today on the way to work I ripped off the band aid and put in George Strait's Greatest Hits. I cried, but it was sweet because music reminds me of long forgotten moments. I was also able to get over his voice, and I think for the most part I will think of Dad when I hear one of George's songs, and I might cry a little. But it will be a happy sorrow that fills my eyes, because I loved the man! Thank goodness I remember enough to be sad, and he's a part of me. I've got his heart and he still has mine.

I love you Daddy! I miss you!