 
Dear Son,
I still love you, even after all these years. I cannot believe that is has been six years, four months and 12 days since you took your life. Yes, I count each day and each day my love for you does not diminish. But it has been long enough for me to tell you that in addition to my love for you, I am angry at you. Is my anger bad? No, I don't think so because I am not angry at what you did. Looking back on it, I can see why you did what you did. I won't say I understand it or even condone it, but I can see why you did it. What I am angry at you for is all that you missed.
Do you remember when you were young, I mean really young. Oh, I would have to say maybe when you were five or six. Or maybe even four. I remember those like it was yesterday. We would be driving down the road and your would be sitting in the passenger seat, leaning forwards in your seatbelt, with your face pressed against the glass. I cannot recall how many times you would say...did you see that. That was so cool. You missed it? And when I admitted I missed whatever you had just seen, you would get a look of disappointment on your face. Thinking back on it now, I remember when you would sit in the back seat and point out something we had passed. I can't tell you how many times I heard my neck crack as I spun my head trying to see what you were trying to show me.
I imagine that I feel like you did back then. The world is going by so quickly and so many new things are popping up and passing by that you can't help but get whiplash by trying to keep up with it. There have been so many times that I saw something I knew you would love and when I turned to point it out to you, you were not there. When something fascinating passes by and I could not share it with you, I find myself getting angry because you chose to allow yourself to miss it all.
I look at where I am writing this now and think of what you are missing. The whole internet. You took your life just before the internet really began to explode. I remember the first computer I got you and how your eyes got really big. You could see the opportunities bursting before your eyes and the things you did with that computer, I didn't think could be done. I remember hiding behind the door with my head just poking out watching you. How your fingers could fly over that keyboard. It sounded like a machine gun. And I never worried about you because when you wer finished with what had captured your attention, you would always grab me and show me. Half the time, I had no idea what I was looking at but I could clearly see your passion.
You remember the first guitars I got you. They still sit in the back of the closet and have probably fallen terribly out of tune. I am so angry because you missed an incredible musical opportunity. These days there is so much music out there. You don't have to go through the big companies to get your sound heard. These days you can burn your stuff on your own CDs or make MP3s or even post stuff on the web and people all over the world can hear it. Heck, these days you don't even need a studio. They have machines and computers where you can do it at your home. It is amazing because I was listening to the radio last week and I heard a song that sounded like it could have come from your band. Maybe you never would have been famous, but at least you could have given someone else the pleasure of listening to your words and songs.
Movies. Oh, how you loved movies. There is a lot of garbage out there now but there is also the occassional gem. The independent film makers have really made great strides in getting their stuff out there. Just last year, I got a satellite dish that has over 500 channels and a lot of those are movie channels. There is so much out there and you are missing it all. I sit there at night and watch a movie I know you would have loved and when I look over to nudge you to say this is good, you aren't there. And again, I get angry because you voluntarily decided that you did not want to see anymore.
Do you want to know what makes me the most angry? It is that you actually believed the people who said "These are the best days of your life." They lied to you. Here I am in my mid 40s and I still have not had the best days of my life. Each time I hear someone say that to a young person, I have to restrain myself from strangling the very life out of them. How dare they say that you are done.
I needed to say this to you and maybe to someone else. I do so love you and everyday I miss you a little a more. I know that every morning when I wake up, I am going to see something that you would have loved. And every morning I get just a little angrier because you refused to allow yourself the opportunity to experience all that the future holds.
I know that this anger that grows and festers each day will never dampen or overwhelm my love for you.
Your friend,
Dad Backgrounds ©2003-2004 by Shorty. Bar and photo from Big Box of Art. Words are © to Sir Quill in dedication to all that has lost a loved one to suicide. No part may be used without permission of Sir Quill or BHP. Last update: 02/18/06 |
