How sweet are all of you?
I have been in a bad place, I still am. I wasn't going to post
until I could work my way around it... but then I found I missed
you all very much. That got me to thinking, who else could truly
know what I am feeling except someone who has been where I
am.... so here I am

Bittersweet sums up the visit with my sister Kel. She was here for
a week, she left Saturday. I was just so damn happy to see her I
burst into tears when we were outside hugging. I always do that,
such a sap I is. We had a pretty nice start of the week. It was
Columbus Day weekend, and we have a local country fair here. Kel
hasn't been since she moved away, so she wanted to go. My sister
Missy who lives with us offered to stay with Lynn so I could go too!!
We had such a good time!!! Despite the fact that my Dad's grave was
only less than a mile up the road.

We played canasta deep into the night, catching up, laughing and
crying. Tuesday night was really a hard one. We got to talking about
Dad... and I gave her a few mementos, and his other dog tag. Now we
both wear one. During our talking, of course there was some crying...
and sharing..... I was shocked to admit how angry I am at Dad. Not
only for choosing to leave us, but for not calling me. I kept saying he
KNEW I was coming the next day, why didn't he call me? WHY couldn't
he have just picked up the damn phone and called me!!!??

The answers, to that question and all the others- we will never know.
That is the ***** of it. With illness, accident even murder.. you know
what caused their death, you have something or someone to divert
and reflect your anger onto. With suicide, this isn't the case. The hard
cold truth is, my Dad choose to leave me. I know, I know he HAD to have
been "ill" or not "thinking right" to be able to do it .......................
.................................................. .............................................
But that doesn't change the fact that he did it! Nor does it quiet the breaking
of my heart, the screams that fill my nightmares that he didn't love me
enough to stay!!!!!

Wednesday, we went to Dad's - his home. I wasn't sure Kel would want to
go as this is where my Dad took his life. She decided, yes she did want to-
she had to face it to get some closure. She had sworn before she would
never walk up the ramp outside the front door where he shot himself. My
step mom was prepared for this and met us outside to go around to the
side door. But, kel didn't say a word, she didn't use the side door.. nor
the stairs that led to the front door... instead she walked right onto that
ramp............ God only knows what was in her thoughts at that moment.
I have been to the house countless times, and I still can't walk up that ramp!
She is so strong!! I imagine, she faced a demon right then. I can only pray
it brought her some peace.

When we left the house, we then went to Dad's new "home" - his grave.
I asked if she wanted time alone, she said no.. you come with me. So .... I did.
I walked over, pulled up some weeds, grabbed the flower pots and the granite
plague with my poem I had written him and headed for the trunk. Saying I
can't do this... I shut down when I come here. I felt nothing but empty.
And that is so odd for me. I always helped my grams plant the family graves
for Memorial day and put wreaths on at Christmas. When she was ill, I promised
her I would carry on the tradition. When she passed, it was so hard... I went often,
bringing her fresh flowers, I found peace there. I don't have that
at my Dad's. I have only been 4 times. I find nothing peaceful about being there. Nothing!

I waited by the car, I looked over and saw she was kneeling by his grave,
and it hit me I was not being much support for my poor sister, it was her
first visit!! I needed to help her. I knelt beside her, she had tears in her eyes
but she wasn't breaking, like I feel I have been since that fateful March day.
we held onto each other quietly removing debris from his stone. The stone got
bleary, and the next thing I know I am on his stone screaming ..sobbing..
WHY!!! Damn it Why Dad!!!!
I could not let go of that stone. I held on for dear life, just wishing it could
drag me right under it to be with him. I stayed that way for some time..... I
truly don't know how long.

On the quiet ride home, she would reach over to hold my hand, or rub my leg.
She asked me to drop her off at our Mom's house. Later that night, I found
out she needed to stop, because being a witness to my deep raw grief
literally made her have to throw up Some help I was!!!

She left Saturday, and I miss her something fierce. I started that "twisted"
thinking again and called my doctor during her visit and after she left to
increase my medications. My days are filled with all the normal worries we
all have, plus the added fear of what is happening to Lynn... my nights are
filled with nightmares about seeing my Dad kill himself. About how I wasn't
able to help him. I have no power to stop what is happening to Lynn...
I can't bring my Dad back......... I am just so tired. Beyond tired.