Uncle Steve

My uncle came into town this past weekend. He is my Dad's little brother. My sis and I went to dinner with him, and it was an unexpected healing experience for me. I got a lot of questions answered, and I received another perspective on my Dad's life, and my parents relationship.

A little background...

My Dad and Mom became best friends when they were 14 years old. They were 'soul mates' as my uncle put it. Of course their friendship became more than that, and by the end of High School they were a couple... my Dad was a few months younger than my Mom, and a grade behind her... he was able to graduate early with her. He was a football and basketball player and she was on the drill team. They were the definition of 'High School sweethearts'.
Now here is where I have had some holes in their story...
After High School, they moved from Cali up to Provo for college. They only stayed for one semester, then moved back to Cali to get married. They were very young! I was born a year later, and afterward they again moved back to Provo where my Dad worked as a mechanic at the Provo airport, and the training to become a pilot. My Dad's parents started going through a nasty divorce, and my Dad was close to both his Mom and Dad.
My Mom had two more kids... I was 22 months old when my sis came along, and 15 months later another sister. They moved back to Cali again, and six months later my Dad took his own life. I have memories of just about everything following that... the hell that I get to call my childhood.
So my Mom very quickly remarried, and we never spoke about my father. In fact, until I was 8 years old, I was told he died in a car accident. My Mom didn't think I was old enough to know the truth. We were in essence, cut off from that side of the family. I remember hearing my Mom call my Grandma Kit a 'family friend'. I was confused... so very confused.
I do understand the need to protect your children, I feel the need to protect my own children from things. What ever the reasons, I grew up with a lot of questions and a huge void where a father should have been, not to mention a stepfather who hated everything about me.
As I got older, I got some bits and pieces, but everyone had their own perspective on what happened and why my Dad did what he did. Everyone had someone different to blame. The one constant was that everyone... literally everyone... said my Dad was such a great guy, and loved by everyone who knew him. He was kind, generous, loving, and just a really good person. I remember my Mom told me once, that he never once complained. "He never complained about anything I cooked... he never said anything negative to me... ever."

My uncle talked about my Dad, and answered questions that I had about my parents relationship. My Dad suffered from depression, and he would often leave for days at a time. Which is why people didn't worry about him when he left for the last time.
My uncle also confirmed what my Grandpa told me before he died. That both my Mom's and Dad's parents told them they needed to get married. They were obviously doing things that warranted this advise... and whether it was because of religion, or just social pressure of that generation... as my uncle said "They got some bad advise." They were too young, and not getting married for the right reasons.
Now I know that realistically there had to have been many contributing factors. Having a chemical imbalance probably being the most critical factor. My Dad's family suffers from severe disorders, I have an aunt and cousin who are bipolar, another aunt who struggles passively like my Dad, but so much of that family struggles with a range of mental disorders and won't take medication. As where people who are bipolar deal with the manic high's... my Dad's depression kept him on the low's. He was a 'passive depressant'. My uncle confirmed that he really suffered from this disease.
It was such a healing experience to hear him talk about my Dad. Not to mention, everyone tells me that this uncle is the most like my Dad... they have very similar personalities. I told him that it's so nice to visit with him because it actually gives me some reassurance that there is some 'normal blood' from that family. It sounds harsh to say that everyone else in that family is crazy... but honestly most everyone truly is. Without medication, they've lived hard lives... still do.
I can't help but think that if my Dad had lived in a time where he could have had the option of medication... he'd still be here today. I think this is the reason I've never taken my situation for granted. I feel so blessed to live in a day where not only are there great meds, but people are starting to be more accepting of mental disorders. I think that it's important to keep in mind... that I don't take medication for me... I take it for my kids, for Mike, for my family and loved ones. If my life was only about me, I probably wouldn't take medications. I hate the way it makes me feel. But my life affects a lot of people. I think that anyone who struggles with depression needs to remember that while being depressed sucks for you... it really sucks for other people too! Taking medications is not a weakness, it takes strength to be honest about what you might need, or what your family needs.

I realize that I will always have questions about my Dad. That void will always be there... because I know that only he can fill in the gaps. And someday, I believe that I'll have the opportunity to ask him anything I want. Until then... I'm so thankful for the small moments in my life where I get to know him better. My uncle will never know just how much his stories mean to me. I'll be forever thankful.