My dad died 14 years ago yesterday, well we all know in our hearts that he died on the 13th but wasn't found until the 14th. He died of an accidental overdose. In the state of Utah if your BAC is higher than a certain level then its not considered suicide. My sister was 3 but remembers a lot about his funeral, not so much about him, but the funeral, which is understandable... I was 16 and I was just mad as hell at him for leaving, it wasn't until I was 21 that I realized how much I missed him and how much I truly loved him, and I finally grieved the loss of my father. He was my dad, he adopted me when I was 14. It took me a while to come around but I did and I'm so happy he was apart of my life and I know that he loved me too. I know that he is watching over us and has been with me in important times, I specifically remember after I had my oldest I was alone with the baby in my hospital room and had just finished nursing him when he lifted up his head and looked up at me and then looked to the side of me and I felt like my dad was there admiring his grandson. Then when I had my youngest and he was in the NICU, again another quiet moment after I had nursed him, and I was feeling SO sad that I was going home with out my baby, I felt like I was crying on someone's shoulder, my dad's shoulder. My youngest had copper red hair when he was born, neither Andy or I have red hair, my sister said, "He got it from dad." He loved Garth Brooks, sunflowers, motorcycles, and working on cars. My friend's dad sang "The Dance" at his funeral, it was beautiful.
I don't want to know where your head has to go to feel like your family would be better off without you. I don't want to know how it feels to think your family has given up on you. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about my dad.