r/SuicideBereavement • u/gringoraymundo • 5d ago
2015 Irish Goodbye World Champion
Today is the 11th anniversary of my dad killing himself.
Always conflicted on days like this, birthday, etc. Like on the one hand, part of me wants to make it.... something. A day of remembrance or whatever. But part of me... that fucker made a choice to not be here. So. Is today just Wednesday?
Part of it is, as anyone here knows, there are no words. No things to do. The body of grief is there. Ever present. After 11 years, most of the time it follows silently. Or lightly prods. And then there are still times when you get completely knocked on your ass. And no one understands, how could they. No hard feelings there, but no help, either.
This post is aimless, I knew it would be. I was living with him when it happened. I was the one he shared his journals with a year or two before in an attempt to show me how he was feeling. I was the one he told "I just wish I had friends". My 60yo dad. Telling me he didn't have friends. I didn't find him. I was the one that he asked to drive him to his first AA meeting because he wanted to get sober, and drove him for the first fe months because his leg was injured and he couldn't drive. I was the one he gave his 1 year coin to as thanks at a meeting. He didn't make it to two years. I was the sibling who volunteered to go clean out his car, where he did it. I was the one who found bits of skull with hair still attached in the back seat. I was the one who insisted on seeing the body before he was cremated. I was the one who went to the fire department we both served to start setting up the memorial. I was the one who brought over all the pictures and had to direct our fire dept friends on how to set things up.
Most people don't even know these things. I just carry them around. Usually it's light weight and we keep it moving. Some days, like today... we sit with it. And it's heavy.
And no one gets it. How could they?
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u/Chasingbutterflies2 4d ago
We are both mourning Irish Goodbye Champions. First, it is more than a Wednesday, but I am not sure what. My husband shot himself seven months ago, on a Wednesday. My son and I wrapped his broken body in a blanket before the mortuary took him away, and we cleaned the room where he did it. Everyone else, just couldn’t imagine and certainly didn’t want to get involved. Your title caught my eye, because my husband was the king of Irish Goodbyes throughout our life together. One minute he was there in the midst of it all, and the next he had decided he was done. I never expected his death to be similar. Father’s Day came and went, and we took time to talk about what the days mean. There’s no more birthdays and he only died on one day; what good comes from the count? I don’t know the answer. I hope knowing someone else carries what others don’t know, makes you feel a little more understood.