I know...it's a depressing title.
This post is sad.
Last year around this time, I wrote of Soldiers who live with PTSD. Christmas is a difficult time for those with depression...it's a time for reflection of what we have...I suppose those who feel they don't have much, struggle through the holiday season.
So much of my blog is about our Soldiers. Today is a personal post. Today is one of those 'self-therapy' posts. (Feel free to exit, but close the door gently, please)
My cousin took her own life last Thursday. I have to admit, I did not know her well. Her dad is my Uncle Fred, my dad's idential twin. My dad and his twin were separated when they were around 6 years old by divorce. My dad's mother only wanted Fred, as a result my dad was raised by my Grandpa and my Grandmother (literally Step-Grandmother...but, she was my Grandmother!) Growing up; we saw my uncle, his wife and their four children from time to time. I remember one time, Dad picked Uncle Fred up from the airport...we went running to greet Uncle Fred at the passenger side of the car, it took a few moments to realize it was Dad! I'm telling you, they were identical! Uncle Fred passed away in 1974, I don't recall details...just that he became addicted to Rx drugs. His daughter Melinda had surgery a year ago, she too became addicted to her pain relievers. This addiction cost her, her 17 year marriage. Melinda felt shut out by her daughter (who was expecting a son), her friends... Her brother told me she finally knows peace. I read a poem which was written by a friend she had reached out to...he put her off, didn't return her phone calls... oh, the pain depression can cause.
I do apologize for this being such a scrambled post... I didn't know Melinda well; probably had not seen her in 10 to 15 years. But we shared identical twin brothers, as our fathers. As I write this, I miss my Dad terribly. He and I would talk about this, and he would make my heart hurt less. How grateful I am, that God gave me my dad. A man who was rejected by his own mother... yet four and a half years after his death, I know how deeply he loves me.
Melinda's suffering is over. I pray she is being rocked in the loving arms of God. I pray that all those who are silently screaming for help, are heard by someone.
I miss my Dad.