understanding

After talking with Karla today about how we feel and what we remember, I had to take some time outside and let my heart process the pain of our conversation. She and I talked about your depression, your deep painful sorrow that consumed you in the end. Your illness robbed you of your joy. It left nothing but pain, slowly but surely stripping away every glimmer of hope left in your heart. In the end, there was nothing left for you, nothing that could've kept you here. Nothing. Not even the birth of our babies was enough to help you stay. Your sorrow was obvious. Your pain was obvious. Your desire for death was obvious. I don't understand why Karla didn't see it like I did. I knew you would succeed in finding relief through death. I knew you wanted to go. You were a hollow man, and nothing could fill the great void of pain with anything but more pain.

I had offered to help you in the simple way of my shamanic healing techniques. I don't think you understood what I was offering but I do think you knew I understood how you felt. Everyone but me clung to your life like there was no other option. But their unwillingness to let you go caused you even more pain, because you held on for so long. And pain is a part of life. Because of your death I have more love. Because of your death I have more life.

There is no blame, for anyone. We just did what we did, and live with those choices we must. I have some guilt, but it is pointless. I did what I had to. I just wish I could've helped you find your joy again. Even with all that I can do, it wasn't enough. And it's okay.

I thought about buying you a card today for father's day. I think I still will. Even though you're gone from this world, you're forever in my heart. And I will always honor my father in my heart.

How I miss you.