James Watt

Five years ago this morning, my father committed suicide. My father, who was separated from my mother, was living at my grandparents’ house with my sister. Like this year, it was a Monday. With my grandparents out of town and my sister at school, my dad went into the garage and shot himself. I was downtown at a hearing for a traffic ticket. I actually have pictures from that day, I’m in a suit smiling and laughing about my court victory. It was the last time I’ll ever experience the childhood bliss of ignorance and happiness.

This picture was taken at 12:04PM, possibly the exact moment that my father pulled the trigger. These pictures have haunted my photo gallery for 5 years; I don’t know if I should feel guilty about them or hold onto these very last moments of childhood bliss. They always say that when things like this happen, you know. A sixth sense comes over us and we can feel it. I did not feel any sixth sense, my soul was not tugging on my heart, I was absolutely ignorant to the fact that five blocks away, my father had just taken his own life.

It wasn’t until Saturday, March 10, that my world shattered. My sister, for reasons I will not speculate, waited until Saturday to alert the family that dad was missing. I’ve never asked, but I can’t imagine what she went through over those 5 days or how she felt after learning he was in the garage. I was at Chili’s with my girlfriend of the time, when my mother called me in tears, asking me if I had seen or heard from dad.

I paid our tab and went to meet with the family at my grandparents’ house. It was just after lunch when most of the family arrived. My mother and sister were there. My aunt and her wife showed up shortly after. My uncle, a cop, was working a detail and asked us to keep him posted. We started off by calling all of the police departments, jails, and hospitals in Western Pennsylvania.

After getting nowhere, everyone started to get upset and restless. My aunt and I stopped at a couple local bars to ask about my dad, but nobody had any information. When we arrived back, the others had started cleaning up my grandparents’ house. Maybe it was out of anxiety, but we all helped, hoping that my dad would show up.

His white truck was still in the driveway. His wallet, cellphone and an empty pack of cigarettes lay on an end table in the family room. The signs were there, but none of us wanted to accept it. The police finally showed to take a missing person’s report. For whatever reason, the cop needed to walk around the property checking every room and closet before filing the report. Like all of us, he didn’t enter the garage and therefor never found my father.

I went to take the garbage out through the garage, but it was packed tight with two vehicles, an Astro Van and a 91 Lincoln Towncar. There was a strong smell, which my mind assumed was just garbage that had been sitting out all winter while my grandparents were away. My aunt, who was near the door way, must have realized what it was. She said something along the lines of, “Do you smell that?”

We circled around the house and opened the garage from the outside. My aunt opened the door to the van. I was directly behind her and immediately went into shock when I saw my dad. He had lain plastic down in the back of the van before doing it. He knew that my sister would never look there and saved her from having to find him. I ran inside as fast as I could and pushed my sister and girlfriend back inside of the house. I kept repeating some sentence that everything was going to be okay, but not to go outside. I was out of my mind.

I cannot clearly or accurately recall the details that followed these events for the next six months, let alone the rest of the night. I know that I called my uncle and told him what happened. He showed up about the same time that the local police and fire department showed up. They found a 9mm handgun under my dad. My grandparents on my mother’s side came to pick up my sister, my girlfriend and me because none of us were in any position to drive. In my emotional state, I lashed out at my grandfather and told them to let me walk the rest of the way home.

This single moment in time has forever changed my perspective on life. I don’t believe my dad wanted to put any of us through it. To really understand the situation, we have to go back… [Read more...]