Hey Dad, I came on here on the 21st anniversary you left. I started to
write this, but I didn't put it on...I'll never feel really ready, but I am ready enough to share and open up my feelings love you xxxx

Hey Dad, sorry it's been such a long time since I have been on here...I just can't believe it's 21 years since you went Dad, it's how old i was when you left us, you've been gone longer than the time we had together. I have been dealing with my emotions and demons towards you Dad, I have opened up to some friends, I wasnt able to tell them face to face, i'm still working on that, i wrote it instead and sent it via email...this is what I needed to say:
I never truly felt the loss or grief for my dad; I’ve never properly grieved for dad or spoken to anyone about his death, so this is where I start.

We moved to Lincoln from down south in Hemel Hempstead in August 1988 and were living life as you do. One day in January 1994 my dad was in an horrific car accident and that’s when our lives changed forever.

Dad tried to move on, but the accident had left him with both physical and psychological pains. He had no help from the Dr’s he was told he was fit for work, which they did later retract; but further damage had been done.

He had good days, a few happy days, he took a cookery course and this was an escape for him. Due to the accident the solicitors said that Dad would be receiving recompense and the man who caused the accident did go to court over this.
I am not sure how this money was distributed to Dad but every
so often he was sent some money quite a bit and he and Mum would go out somewhere with it; those were the happy days. These alone weren’t enough to stop the pain and, he became more and more withdrawn.

Dad started drinking lots of whisky or rum every night, calling out in pain, crying in agony, dad was changing before our very eyes. From the happy, funny, loving man whom we used to snuggle up on the sofa with, bath us, put us to bed, take us to our clubs and other things.
When we lived down in Hemel, we were all younger, but every year on Christmas Eve he used to load all of the Christmas presents into the car to take them to the “Grotto”. We would then go to bed and wait for Santa, dad would return home unload the presents, have a deserved shot of whisky and a mince pie. Simply put the man we knew and loved as Dad, was disappearing leaving a shell of his former self.

During the following 4 years after the accident, my sister celebrated her 18th I had my 21st. It was only my sister, mum and dad living at home at this point. I used to phone to say hello, take mum and dad for lunch. I did try I really did, but with one thing or another, I spoke to them less and less. So the last time I went over was 23rd May 1998 to give my sister her birthday presents.

I arrived and they were eating dinner, I didn’t stay long, it felt awkward. I apologised for interrupting their dinner. My sister thanked me for her presents, her and mum carried on eating. I said I best go, my dad stood up gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek and said goodbye.

That was our last goodbye. That was the last time I saw my dad alive. The last kiss I ever had from him and I can't remember which cheek he kissed no matter how hard I try.

When it comes to dad I’m still in 1998, the year he died, things were so different back then, there was so much stigma over things. I didn’t want people to avoid me, as they didn’t know what to say, some things were still a bit taboo. I’ve only said this 3 times, never seen it written by my own hand until now.

My loving dad, my pained dad, my wonderful dad, took his own life. He didn’t leave a note, I like to think he hadn’t planned it, doesn’t make it much better thinking he was in so much pain he was driven to it at that very moment. I just miss him so very very much.

My thoughts are better now and clearer. I've revisited the day of losing you so many times, I had 19 years of emotions to unbottle.It was like losing you all over again, but I had to go through it to be able to grieve, release the anger and hate that had built up. It felt easier to have these ill feelings, but they intensified over the years, to the point where I realised I needed to seek help.

I never hated you though Dad, I hated that you had gone, the way you died, that you were never coming back and i'd never see you again. Although I just can't forgive you for putting Jodie through that, i know you were riddled with constant pain, but you couldn't have thought of her at all.

This is where the questions come in, was it planned? had you decided beforehand on this date? or had you woken up and randomly thought today is the day? or was it spur of the moment? how long were you like that before she came in?

Sorry to ramble but I have to be honest with people so I can be honest to myself. I don't tell people how you died as I don't want them to judge you. They don't know you, never saw you in pain and agony, saw you at your worst or even at your best. I will admit I don't want people to talk about me or judge me, so if I kept it secret I was safe.

There is so much more help and support now Dad, though I am with you in a cruel 1998 society where any form of mental health was overlooked, even dismissed and all those that took their own life, considered either guilty or a coward. You are neither of them Dad, but it's that mindset and stigma back then that I didn't want you tarnished with. I had to speak up to help support others as well as myself going through something so awful.

I am so sorry Dad, I should have been there for you, looked beyond my selfishness. I didn't realise how bad you were, but then I didn't ask. I blame myself, not you Dad, I wish there had have been the help and support, maybe you would have still been with us, that doesn't change the fact there wasn't and you are gone. I hope one day you can forgive me for letting you down Dad. I will feel guilty forever, but that is my punishment and i deserve that.

You are missed so much Dad...love you always and forever Dad xxxx
Sent by Sue on 20/06/2019