Dear Reader,
My Grandpa committed suicide when he was 75 years old. He took his life in 2005, and my Dad found him. My Father. found. him! I, a 15 year old, watched as my Dad crumbled into a million pieces, literally broke down. A 6’3″ italian goomba fell to his knees in pain over the loss of his own father. My grandma was frozen in shock, numb to the fact her husband (going on 50 years) was no longer coming home after work, or bringing her white daisy’s on Sundays, or laughing to get her to smile. He was gone. Forever.
My grandpa had three beautiful children, four healthy grandchildren, and a timeless wife… and he takes his own life because he was too proud to admit his own failures. That is life, people! This may be news to you, but we ALL fail. Some hit rock bottom harder than others, but we all fail. I scroll through these posts about heartache and pain but you are still living. You have a heartbeat! If I prick you, do you not bleed?
Goddamn, the things I would do to have one laugh, one smile, one look, one hug with my Grandpa again. He left us without a note, without a word, with no explanation, no money, no organization, or plan. He left his two sons and daughter because he couldn’t talk about it. That cold morning, he woke up like any other day, got ready for work, kissed my grandma on the forehead, opened up his shop, went out and took his own life. THERE IS ALWAYS ANOTHER WAY. I know you do not believe it in this moment, but I am telling you- the heartache you cast on all of the people in your life is unimaginable.
Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream.
-A Dream Within A Dream
You are worthy. You are loved.
#loveislouder
1 comment
What memories do you have of him interacting with you?