The Difficulty of Envisioning You

Dear Dad,

Another minute,

another day,

another week,

another month,

another holiday,

and another year closer to the real world, yet

another year farther from remembering you.

Every wake up,

every drive,

every class time,

every church service,

and every meal fails to go by without struggling to remember who you were, what you looked like, or how you sounded.

As of August 31, 7 years without you has never felt so long ago. Only within the past couple of years has my life felt split in two, identified by before and after you left.

I used to think my lack of memory of your presence, appearance, voice, and demeanor was due to my inability to focus at certain moments in time. Little did I know when it comes time to sit down and ponder what life used to be like with you, my memories feel like nothing but a cloud. Even when told to “look at a picture” of you does my mind go blank, reminding myself that seeing what life used to be like from the outside feels too normal to remember who you were on the inside.

Most recently, I’m constantly reminded of you from others’ comments regarding mental health. I never knew how to feel when the topic was raised, yet I sit quietly and imagine what thoughts would roam through your mind. I wish I could explain to others what life feels like with questions of death left unanswered, yet I sit quietly.

Life has felt quiet lately, but for reasons I believe are nothing but good. Taking time away from campus life and the chaos it delivers (especially now as an RA) has allowed me to realize how valuable our time on Earth really is—but especially how my impact as a person will one day only be a memory.

Your impact, Dad, has truly shown others how to live graciously and selflessly. If there’s one thing I do remember from the age of 13 or younger, is how you haven’t left a lot of people’s minds, despite forgetting more about you and your physical appearance each and every day.

It’s a sad reality not only to be forgetting you without trying, but realizing how long and beautiful life is—and yet, you were only there for 13 years of mine. The best 13 years a little girl could ever have.

Along with my lack of remembering you also comes no memory of who I used to be within your presence, although something to work on growing into each new day.

I write this not for sympathy but for recognition of Suicide Prevention Month, yet another month people post/repost about across the media, yet don’t take the time to reflect and pray for those who have lost their lives to their own battles. Although families and friends too need this prayer, the love and appreciation throughout these stages of life that you are no longer able to experience is what must truly be celebrated during September.

I’m losing memory of you, dad, but I know you’ll always be with me. For your oversight and guidance over me this month and every month, you will never be forgotten 💛

Your daughter,

Lauren M Tauber