El mes de marzo

March is an exciting month only because so much happens: Spring break for students, the winter weather changes to nice sunny days and birthday's celebrated. Mom and dad's wedding anniversary is March 29th and the last one they celebrated was in 1976. They were almost married 18 years in 1977 except that dad decided to cut that short.
The day of March 24, 1977, began as regular as it could since your disappearance. Dad was now taking medications for depression and I did see him a bit uneasy that morning, walking back and forth from the hallway to the kitchen with his arms crossed, then holding his hands together, rubbing them as if in a pensive state, looking bewildered, appearing preoccupied in his deepest thoughts.
I had my usual breakfast of toast and juice and then mom took me to school. I was in 7th grade at Little Flower and I remember being excited that I was now in those upstairs classrooms where you once were.
Around noon, I remember that I felt something very unusual that it made me look out the window and I saw a sparkle of light close to me, right there in the classroom. I was in Science class with Ms. Trevino, and after I saw this sparkle of light I looked at the clock and it was during that noon-ish hour. I didn't think anything of it until later.
After school I looked for mom or dad to pick me up after school. Neither showed up. My best friend's mom told me she was taking me home. I just loved driving around in their light blue VW van. They took me to their home over by Woodlawn lake and I waited for mom to get there. She picked me up and all I remember is that I was waiting for her as I looked out the door and I saw her walking up the walkway. Our drive home was quiet and I don't recall why she said she could not pick me up but she did begin to tell me that something was wrong with dad. When we arrived home, Tia Mine, dad's sister, was there and I remember she looked like she had been crying. Mom took me to the bathroom and told me that dad had shot himself. I covered my face and began to cry and I told her, "ok, so is the doctor going to take the bullet out? Let's go to the hospital right away and check on him". Mom was knelt in front of me and she grabbed my arms and just shook her head no, and I asked her why and she told me that he had died already.
At that moment I figured out that the little sparkle of light I saw in the classroom was dad's Spirit coming to see me and to bid me farewell. That little spark of his life was the last thing I saw of him.
If you recall, as children we use to run around in the back yard at night and catch those little light bugs and put them in containers to play with- if I had a container at that moment and had known that the little sparkle of light right before me in class was dad, I would have locked him up and asked him: why?
I was now fatherless. Aside from just becoming brotherless, I was now fatherless. What happened was that the two most important men in my life were now gone from my life and all within the span of 1 year, 8 months and 24 days. Now brother, this is just not fair. It gets worse.
The funeral was surreal to me. I felt as though I was being pushed along in a cloud. The funeral took place at Holy Rosary Church next to St. Mary's University, the university I graduated from in 1989. I wore a very bright lime green pant suit. I remember thinking I could pass for Kermit's girlfriend. Anyway, Father Ross was scheduled to do dad's mass but at the last minute, he didn't show. Some other priest did his mass but I do not recall his name. I am not sure if it had to do with the fact that dad committed suicide, but I think it did have to do with that. Really, though, I am not sure. 
After the funeral, which also took place on what would have been mom and dad's 18th wedding anniversary, I learned the details of his death.
Dad found it necessary to place a rifle to his chest, right into his heart, while kneeling down in your room, and ended his life. Mom told me she had been on the phone with Dr. Tamez telling him of what he was doing when Dr. Tamez heard the shot, he called the ambulance and the police to our little home on Woodlawn Ave. Mom was interrogated by the police. I felt so badly for her having to go through all that, all alone, in what was now an official crime scene. I can't believe that in our little home, where we shared so many memories, was now a casket of darkness. It seemed as if dark clouds were choking us and I found it very hard to breathe. Needless to say, mom's day didn't go as planned and neither did mine. Our lives were shattered into a countless number- way beyond measure- that day and we can care less for reliving that day or the day that you disappeared. March is a month I really would rather just skip altogether
After dad's funeral, I was bullied at school by my classmates as they constantly questioned me what happened to my dad- they wanted to know how he died (I got the feeling they knew the truth somehow). I was given direct orders to say that he died from a heart attack because attending a Catholic school and adhering to strict beliefs held by the Catholic Church and of the commandments, especially, 'thou shall not kill', and that anyone who committed suicide went directly to hell.
I suffered from many dreams after that, seeing dad falling down into a hole of fire. I felt that every time my "friends" would ask me how dad died, they were laughing behind my back because I knew that they knew where my dad would end up.
Mom had pictures taken at the funeral in case she needed to show you. I don't think she would want to anyway because the rumors then began that dad did this because of you.
I don't really care to reason why he did this because I know now that anyone who can take their own life is not reasoning very well in their head and most of all I asked myself- wasn't I worth it for him to not do it? Wasn't mom worth if for him to not do it? There is no reasoning here- at all- but I do know there is forgiveness and God does forgive those who go to such lengths, those who are desperate and hurting beyond belief.

Back Home Again by Clara Ashmore

Some urging within me keeps calling
For me to come home just once more.
My thoughts travel to faraway places,
To the land where I'd been long before.
My faltering steps prevent wandering,
So, only in dreams can I flee.
In my chair I sit and remember
It's the place where I want to be.
Tonight I will walk in the moonlight
Listening to the sounds close by;
On the grass dew gleams like diamonds
As if stars had fallen from the sky.
I will think of the home of my childhood,
To the place I still hold most dear;
As I close my eyes and remember,
The memories flood back all too clear.
I can feel the sun and soft breezes,
The smell of my mom's apple pie.
I imagine the days of my chidhood
With the magic of dreams long gone by.

I just received this Salesian Inspirational book today in the mail and when I opened it, I immediately came to this page. I do believe in destiny, and I felt I was destined to read this poem. It does fit in with my blog and the reason why I am writing this. Although my childhood was filled with adversity, I do still cherish the memories before the heartache began.
I would like to thank Clara for writing this because for me, it just fits so perfectly.