A short Memoir of one of my Dad's HEART dive recoveries for a 12-year-old suicide in 2019. While the recoveries are terrible for the grieving families, we mostly see the way this line of work impacts Dad when he comes home.
2:00am:
Dad is home
From work
Fluorescent red hum in the hall
He whispers down the hall
Broad shoulders, picking up my sleeping brother
“Dad?”
“Sh...”
Broad shoulders shaking
Hold him
To his chest
Earlier, 2:00pm:
Body cannot fill
body bag
The murmuring of the crowds around
On shore they drag him and crowd around
Red uniforms and blue uniforms, Dad takes a deep breath
For the press talk
Boy
Drowned
Pulling out body
From river bottom
Cannot return the life.
Earlier, 2:00am:
Stand on edge
Wind wailing
Stare down at water below much farther
calling that silence of peace not much farther
the duct tape discarded around wrists, pack bulges with weights
sigh
step
wind screams
and surface breaks
sink down to an embrace
"I hope Dads read the note"-
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