Greentext

Lost one of my boys a little over a year ago. Still get crippled with grief from time to time - maybe every other day now instead of multiple times a day. It gets easier, but never easy. In the process of getting a ring with some of his ashes built into them and I think that'll be pretty special to get to bring him everywhere I go.

Not looking for condolences, just wanted to put this perspective out there in a sea of folks who seemed to have bad relationships with their parents. To those: I'm sorry. I can't imagine.

Does everyone in this comment section have a horrible relationship with their father??

What the hell, am I the only one here NOT hating my parents??

I think its what i fear the most with my son. He's a toddler, but life goes by fast and one day he'll be grown with his own problems to solve. I just give him everything i can, from love to time to entertainment, and i wish i'll do a good enough job for him to come seek refuge to me rather than with the tool to end his life.

I love him so much, just sharing because this anon shook me with this story.

im not staying alive for their fucking feelings. if they cared that much they could have treated me like a human being when i was a kid. im staying alive for my cats. and yeah it means i love them more than my shitty parents.

My dad was a drunk and made sure I learned every racist term in the book before I was 12. I'm sure he'd be devastated if I managed to kill myself, without ever realizing how much he contributed to the desire in the first place.

My life has only gotten better since he died. Rest in piss old man, I'm glad you're dead.

Edits: also, single moms rule — I'd fight a T-Rex for my mom. I'd lose, but god damnit I'd try.

As an old and retired paramedic myself, there are definitely parts of me, as a human being, that will never grow back. And I worked in a rural area where you work on neighbors, family, and friends mostly. It was never easy to explain to the family that might be present that not me or god could fix what was wrong. I also did a few suicides over the years. Never easy and they leave a mark that won't grow back by morning.

The worst thing about any of it, was meeting a family member in a cafe or store in our small town. And they would invariably come up to me and give me a hug and tell me how grateful they were that I was there for them. Despite the fact I couldn't do shit for the dead person beyond calling dispatch and telling them to send law enforcement to come and do their paperwork and secure the scene until the funeral home got there to haul the body away.

A large part of my younger self wanted to be a paramedic. But I quickly realized I didn't have the emotional resilience to be one.

I remember watching Nic Cage in "Bringing out the Dead" (Excellent film by the way) and that movie putting the big ol' nope on that plan once and for all in the early 2000's.

Wait til they're dead like the considerate son/daughter you are.

My dad killed himself so he beat me to it.

I held his jacket and was glad I didn't see his body honestly. Good on that paramedic

A similar experience I had was when I saw my mom cry and pay respects to my grandpa for the last time as he was sent to be cremated.

I respected my grandfather but as we lived half way across the world, I wasn't emotionally attached to him and didn't feel very sad. But seeing my mom, usually a very silly lady and a very strong, loving grandma herself, turn into a daughter saying goodbye to her dad in tears for that split second broke my heart.

I have suffered from suicidal thoughts and depression for longer than I can remember, my life has been sad and my family keep making it worse. Honestly I don't want to think about how much they would miss me when my own mother has told me she would consider me dead if I became non religious.

I am alive because I am simply too angry to die and I will keep living on even if the pain keeps tearing me down

I don't think I could handle being a paramedic for this reason. The memories just build and they get so many.

I've witnessed death myself upclose as family members died. Their final moments burned in forever.

Those memories never fade, you just distract yourself from it. But the memory is always waiting for when you recall a time together with them. There is that fucking final moment again, like a punctuation on a good thought.

To have that be part of a job, even if they are not related has to weigh heavily. They don't get paid nearly enough for that burden.

I saw my dad lose his best friend to suicide in my teens. I've struggled with suicidal ideation since before even that. I'm not close to my dad, I have lots of issues with the man, but I can never put him through that again, no matter what.

Meta comment, but I like that Lemmy can have these threads, and it’s probably mostly real.

It’s some human 4chan anon, whether they’re making it up or not.

Maybe the majority of comments here are legit.

Meanwhile, when I stumble into a Reddit thread like this (mostly when I miss old.reddit.com and get bombarded with weird engagement bait), it’s… mostly bots?

It’s either obvious, or very suspicious and likely engagement bait.

And if it's a Tweet OP is referencing, well, that's probably fake or bait too.

I’m sure this place will get flooded with bots, eventually, so we remake it again. The cycle continues.

Boots on the ground

They'll cut you off at the ankles

And throw the rest away

My grandparents both lost children. It sounds weird to specify, but they were children from different marriages. They shared this coincidence. My grandmother had this sort of incident with the body; I think my grandfather only received the news. Both developed illnesses now suspected to be caused or worsened by stress: cancer and Alzheimer's. They were sad people after their losses, very sad people. I do believe it slowly killed them. Just anecdotal evidence of the damage of losing a child...

A classic. This one hit me hard when it was first written

So do it after Dad dies is what I'm reading.