Life IS good... A tribute to my dad 29 years later...

I received a really nice compliment from my cousin the other day.

She said, "Jenn, I love how you always do nice things for people."

THAT, to me - is one of the biggest compliments I could ever receive.
That compliment, to me, means that I am being my father's daughter.  I'm living as he lived and as he taught me.

My dad was one of those guys that would give you whatever you needed.  It didn't matter if it was his last or only.  If he had something that could help to make someone else's life a little easier, giving it to that person made him happy.

I know this first hand, because I am his daughter.

I am the "little girl" that, when my dad came into some money, didn't even have to finish the "I would like  want." sentence and my daddy was providing it to me.  He wanted me to be happy.  A bit spoiled, yes - but happy.

That is who he was.

Although this is my self proclaimed Mental Health Month
because my dad took his own life on this day in 1984,

I didn't want this post to be about how he died.

 I wanted it to be about how he lived,
 so that when people read this post they think,
"Wow, her father was an amazing individual."

Was my dad the absolute perfect person on the planet?
Well, he was my daddy, OF COURSE I thought so!

I do know that if he talked the talk, he walked the walk.  If he said he'd be there, he was there.  If he made a promise, he kept it and if you needed something - he would find a way to provide it to you.  No questions asked.
He wanted others to be happy.

This is how I think of my dad.  This is how many thought of my dad.
He was just a nice guy who did for others with no agenda.
This is the person I try to be. 

As an adult, or at least someone who is older and is supposed to know better, I wonder how he was able to hide his pain so well for so long.  He always smiled and joked around.  He always seemed happy.  I never knew of his demons.  I don't know if anyone did.

If I could have saved him I would have done my damndest.... But here we are.  I didn't know my dad needed help.  Even if I did, I don't know if I could have helped him, but I CAN help someone else out there... Someone who may read this.  Someone who may be lost or feel that it's just not worth it.
It IS worth it...really.  All of it!  Even the crap.

This month, I've sought out anyone who was willing to share their personal experiences on mental health with me... with you.

This is all I could think of to do to honor my dad.  To do as he would do.  Reach out and help another person.  Not only with my own personal experience of pain as a suicide survivor x2, but for others who experience pain in their own way.

For me, the sun rose and set over my daddy,

and to this day I love and miss him as I live and breathe.

This is my gift to my dad.  

My tribute to him, on this day.

29 years after he chose to leave this planet.

Today, his death will not be remembered with the sorrow of loss, it will be celebrated with the hope of saving another. Even one.

If you are struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts - please don't give up or give in to the feelings.

You are worth it.  You are loved.  Life is worth it.  Really.

No matter what problems you are struggling with, hurting yourself isn't the answer.

Call 1-800-273-TALK (8255) to talk to a counselor at a Lifeline crisis center near you.

Someone does love you and someone WILL miss you and hurt terribly.
Take it from me.  I miss my dad every day.

Thank you for reading my blog.

I send you all love.

~Jenn

In loving memory of my daddy, 
William Robert Cooper ~ August 8, 1942 - March 28, 1984

My Dad and I...  Many years ago