Happy Birthday in Heaven

So today would have been my dad's 107th birthday.  I know the reality of him being alive today is not a possibility; after all, even if he had lived to be 107, he probably would not even recognize me.  I realize today that I was a mere 27 years old when he passed away -- a baby, really.  Yet, I was married with two children.

There are many things I would have liked to have said to him before he passed.  I wish he had lived to see my kids grow up just a little more.  He would have loved that three out of four of them share his incredible love and talent for music.  He would have been incredibly proud that his oldest granddaughter is a nurse practitioner, taking after his love for medicine.   

I often wonder what he would  have thought about my getting divorced?  I'm sure he would not have sanctioned that -- and I may not have even had the guts to do it if he'd been alive.  Funny, how life turns out.

My dad took his own life on January 10, 1988.  I don't understand why and for years, I lived with survivor's guilt since I was the last person to talk with him.  He had given me little snippets that made me think, "Why are you telling me this?"  He had alluded to previous suicide attempts.  Yet, I thought that was not a possibility.  Perhaps it was my naiveté or my lack of understanding of mental illness.  I now realize, much like a functioning alcoholic, that my dad suffered from depression.  It was a way of life with him; untreated and yet, he could function.   He was a workaholic, which probably helped to keep his mind off of himself.  He was a Holocaust survivor.  I also wonder how much survivor's guilt he carried?  The only other person who survived was his mother and she too, from my understanding, attempted suicide several times.  **

I know you are in heaven, Dad and the angels are singing to you.   How I wish you were here today so I could give you one last hug and kiss and tell you "Happy Birthday" in person.  I wish you could meet your grandkids and great-grandkids.  The babies are all little mensches (decent, upright, responsible little people) as you used to say.  I can  hear your voice in my head saying, "Wie geht es!" (How are you?)

Yes, you live in my memory and in my heart.  If I could tell you one thing, it would be "I love you! I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

With age comes wisdom.  I now understand.  Happy Birthday!

**This was our family secret for years.  If you think that a loved one may be in danger of taking their own life then, take them to the emergency room and get them help.  If they say something that doesn't feel right in your gut, it probably isn't.