Year 3

3 years. 3 whole years have passed, and I still remember as vividly as if it were yesterday. 3 years since his story on this Earth ended and a new chapter of mine began. Receiving that phone-call was the single most surreal moment I’ve experienced in my life so far, and arguably, the most defining in shaping who I am today and who I strive to be every day going forward.

Truth be told, I made a pact with myself years ago, that every year that this day rolls around, I want to make it a point to spread positivity and share what I’ve learned, I think it’s necessary to feel the pain that is undeniably there and to express sadness –it’s healthy to do so; however (and I think I decided this the day I lost him), I refuse to be a dweller. Call it what you will, but that was the day I decided “enough is enough”, at least in my own life.

So this year, I really want to commemorate my dad by sharing what I’ve learned about life through this experience, and hopefully, in some small way, I can help someone.

For those who are unaware of my story, my dad took his own life on August 18, 2012… one week before I began my senior year at Virginia Tech. Nothing prepares you for that, never in a million years. And I think I speak for everyone who has been affected by loss by suicide when I say that you’re never the same. But — like every other aspect of life, you have a choice… a choice on how to react. We are the ones left behind — the ones with voices who can use personal tragedy to make a difference.

His name was Rick Jenson. He was a son, a brother, an uncle, a friend… a father. My dad was a talented man who never gave himself enough credit. A classic “Mr. Fix It,” anything you needed done or fixed around the house, he could do. My dad was the kind of guy who could make best friends with a stranger. He was also the kind of dad who loved to embarrass his kids in public. He had a great sense of humor — loved telling jokes (yes, mostly dirty ones which is where I get it from…) He loved Lynyrd Skynyrd. He hated onions. He loved and cared about everyone in his life deeply… everyone but himself. And I don’t think he realized that through leaving this world, he would teach me he single most important lesson about life.

I think suicide comes with a stigma, one in which people are typically “hush hush” about it, and it gets swept under the rug. Why? Why are we afraid to talk about it? Are we embarrassed? What’s so wrong with talking about it? For me, nothing. We are all individuals with our own unique stories and circumstances, all which shape our lives and decisions moving forward. And to say that we don’t all have our own struggles, our own demons, those thoughts that keep us up at night… that would be a lie. But I think it’s the way in which we choose to react and perceive those thoughts and struggles that become the ultimate dictator of our own personal happiness.

My dad struggled greatly. Through much personal loss in how own life, coupled with an Alcohol dependency, I truly believe his demons become so strong as to mask the light in his life, and the reality that… every single day, every single second, every single moment was an opportunity for him to make changes and seek resources to be happy. There is always a choice, but depression/addiction masks the truth. The truth that happiness is attainable, for every single one of us.

The day I realized how much I had become a slave to my own thoughts was the day my life changed, and I don’t know that this realization would have come so quickly had it not been for losing dad. The root of my unhappiness in my own life was either through reflection on past pain or fearing what’s to come. And then I learned that all I have is right now…this present moment. So, what’s to fear?

So, I guess all in all, here’s the takeaway that I want to get across. If you’re reading this right now, and you’re hurting in some way, shape or form… stop to remember that: A- this pain is temporary B- you’re not alone, and C- you have the power to perceive a different life for yourself. Feel the pain, experience it, talk about it. Life is damn hard. You’d have to be blind to think otherwise with all the pain and strife in this world. But we are all difference makers. We all leave a mark. We all matter. And I truly believe, and you should believe, that in spite of the gut-wrenching pain that we can feel, life is still worth the fight. It’s worth striving for something greater, even if you might not know what that may be. Use this life to figure it out. Hell, I’m 24 years old, and frankly, clueless all in all in terms of where I’m going. But I’m working towards it day-by-day, and I’m taking what I know. And what I know is how blessed I am, how loved I am, and how much love I have for the people in my life. And I know that every single day, I want to be the best version of myself I can be.

Spoken like a true hippie child here… love each other. Be good to each other. Be there for each other. Life is hard enough as it is without us choosing to be cruel. What’s the gain there? Pain. What’s the gain with being good? Everything.

I love you guys. I care about each and every one of you. And I post this with the sincere hope of being understood.

And to my father… I miss you. I love you. I forgive you.