In April of 1990 when I was 21, my father committed suicide. My husband at the time and I were going to visit my parents and I had this uneasy feeling during the entire drive. When we got there, I knew something was wrong and when my mother asked us to take her to my grandmother's house, all he-- broke loose. My dad snapped and went into this small room in the house, got my mother's pistol (we all carried one) out of her purse, shot twice into the ceiling, once out the door of the room and put the gun between my eyes (I was in front of him trying to talk to him and get the gun from him, my mother was behind me and my husband was behind her) and he said he would take us all with him. My mother was screaming for my husband to get me out of the room that it was her he wanted to kill, but my husband ran to the car and got his gun. As he was coming back into the house and got to the doorway of the room, my dad moved the gun from between my eyes, said, "I'll see you all in hell", and put the gun to his right temple and pulled the trigger. They got him to the hospital, but he was brain dead. They kept him on life support until my sister and her family could fly in from Texas immediately (which an airline will fly families in under trauma circumstances without any wait or anything). When my sister and her family arrived, they pulled the plug. Even after all this time, sometimes if I hear a car back fire, I will jump and on occasion, start to cry because the memories will come rushing back as if it were just yesterday and I see it all over again. Has anyone found a way to deal with their grief?
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