It’s been a long few months and a lot of my life, soul, and brain function has been dedicated to finding answers. Dad took his own life 107 days ago and I’ve been slowly and steadily trying to clean up the wreckage.
It’s been rough. It’s been burdensome. It’s been a special kind of hell that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemies.
And it’s almost over.
My wife made a profound observation this past weekend when we were going through my late father’s (and his late wife’s) remaining worldly possessions. It stems from the items we all collect in life. Take a moment and look at your apartment, condo, house, etc. Now look inside it at all your stuff: clothes, furniture, photos, files, toys, books, towels, magazines, pots, pans, phones, old cell phones, the junk drawer in the kitchen…
When you die, it’s a lot of things that some poor soul somewhere is going to have to go through. Morbid, I know, but it’s the truth. Shannon, while we were going through everything, spoke out loud the same thing I was thinking: “I hope my stuff is more organized than this when someone has to go through it.”
The truth is, it isn’t. Now that we’ve had that thought (and the experience to impress it upon us) we might actually get things more organized in our house as a result. Or simplified. Or both.
As a I stated earlier, though, it’s almost over. I spent the past couple of days going back and forth to Dad’s old house (roughly 300 miles round trip) to finish gathering the important stuff: photos, records, and evidence of a life lived. The rest is ready to go away. I snapped this photo the other night when leaving the house. It’s what’s left of the room where my father left this world:
A stripped bed. Empty drawers. The overwhelming smell of the room of a chain smoker.
I’ve talked with my siblings and we’ve agreed upon the best way to wrap up the estate and, in accordance with those plans, the universe of my father and his wife will be officially closed after next Monday. Sure, there will be fringe elements to deal with here and there – but the pressure of decision making and finding answers will be done. Gone. Closed.
So, dear Internet, I apologize for not posting a single damn thing in February. My mind, heart, and soul have been on hiatus these past one hundred days. For now, though, I request a few more days of patience and I finally find the end of my father’s ending.
Then we can return to our regularly scheduled program of anime, conventions, food, video games, and the exciting life of my hobby gone horrible wrong.
See you next week.