Though I can find some reprieve in the fact that I was a victim of a serious mental disorder, I do hurt when I reflect on what I lost in my life. In particular, I regret not having a ‘depression-free’ relationship with my dad. He died seven years ago, April 26 – a day before my birthday. I had – and have – lots of regrets. But this post isn’t about that. Its about reconciliation in the afterlife.
I have a tradition: Every year, on April 26, I go out into the garage late at night, open the garage door and sit with a can of beer – to toast the “old man”! I sit and think only about him until my can is empty. Then I close the garage door and bid my dad a good night – “Until next year!”
It feels good.