The Gifts He’s Left Behind — The Turmoils of Remembering Loved Ones

I believe that memories are like gifts, sometimes they can be a surprise when you receive them and often times they can bring you joy. Gifts can make you feel loved, but sometimes they can have the opposite effect. I have always battled with remembering my dad because I deemed the memories that I had of not only him, but the memories that followed his death as a curse. I was five years old when my dad passed away and as I grew up, I hoped that those memories would fade away with age. I hoped that I would have forgotten the day that my dad died. 

It was a school day, I remember the chaos that followed my older siblings out the door well. It was one of my favorite noises, the noise of a lively house. Their breakfast was probably half eaten as Chase rushed out the door and my sister soon followed, she was less inclined to rush because she had been playing with me which was something that was extremely important to her. That day my dad asked Whitney if he could have a hug goodbye, while she was half way out the door she looked back at him and said “I’m running late, I’ll hug you when I get home.” Unfortunately, this ‘harmless’ exchange is something that haunts my sister to this day. Although I wanted to follow my siblings to school, I felt lucky that I was able to stay home with my mom and dad. That morning my dad and I sat down on our living room floor to play Shoots and Ladders, after a few games my dad got up and said it was time for him to start working. I remember running over to play with my toy kitchen and my dad got up and drove to Starbucks. 

My dad battled with anxiety driven depression and unfortunately, he lost his battle that day. I may have been the last person to see him, the last person who talked to him. I was only five years old when my dad got up from our game of Shoots and Ladders, but I have always struggled with the impact of me asking to play one more game could have had. I know that’s something my sister thinks about everyday, if she would have stopped and hugged him that morning, would he still be here? For years, I was confused because I didn’t understand the circumstances that led to my dad’s death. When I realized I could have changed the course of his fate, I became angry. I’ve been in and out of various forms of therapy my entire life because of my dad’s death and the countless questions that followed, but I am grateful because those therapy sessions made me realize that regardless of how my dad died, he did and always will love me. He loved me and my family so much that he thought our lives would be better without him, his pain was so immense that he didn’t want to continue to be a burden to us. I wish he understood that we would have choose any life with him, than a life without him. 

I am fortunate that I grew up the majority of my life not questioning whether my dad loved me. Despite knowing this, I still felt an immense weight around how my dad died. It’s hard enough being a teenager, but imagine having to explain to everyone you meet that your dad died and then having to deal with the preceding question of “how?” So throughout the majority of middle and high school, I told people that my dad died of heart problems because death by a heart attack or heart condition is socially acceptable, suicide is not. It wasn’t until my mom began a nonprofit called i understand, that I began to embrace my dad’s story and make it my own; i understand works to reduce the stigma around mental health issues and suicide. 

The incredible impact that i understand has had on me did not occur overnight, I loved the idea but I did not love the fact that my peers and community would know the details of my life that I couldn’t even remember sometimes. It wasn’t until my junior year of high school that I began to fully accept i understand, it was National Suicide Prevention Day and all of my friends wore i understand shirts. This meant so much to me because it wasn’t just my best friends who were showing me support, but teachers and students who I had never met before were also wearing i understand shirts. This made me realize that so many people have been affected in similar ways that I have and if they hadn’t, it showed me that they were willing to understand. The hardest and most important part of working through mental health issues is talking, whether you’re talking to a therapist, a friend or family member, or even a stranger, talking is what allows people to heal. I finally felt like I was beginning to heal. 

Since then, I have never lied about how my dad died. I realized that I was doing not only my dad an injustice by not being completely honest, but I was also doing myself, my family, and anyone else I might run into throughout my life an injustice. The stigma is the number one reason why people who are battling a mental health issue do not seek help, they’re ashamed and afraid of being judged or perceived as weak. I want people to understand that true strength is asking for help, I want people to understand that true strength is having the courage to be honest with yourself and your feelings. Once we realize that being comfortable and understanding our emotions is not a sign of vulnerability and weakness, but a sign of strength, is when we’ll start making substantial strives in reducing the amount of suicides that continue to occur. 

The greatest gifts I have received have been watching my mom cultivate an incredible organization from the ground up, experiencing the immense impact that organization has made on myself and my community, and the ability to remember my dad as the man he truly was. The kind of man who lived for adventure, one of his favorite hobbies was jumping out of helicopters to ski down tremendous mountains. The kind of man who is described as handsome, charming, and intelligent, to practically every person who had the pleasure of meeting him. The kind of man who loved his family unconditionally, all of my siblings grew up fishing with him and I am so fortunate to still hold on to those memories.