My two oldest children, Carys and Daniel, have their father’s green eyes. Daniel has his dad’s mannerisms to the point where some of my family members still slip up and call him “Aaron” – his dad’s name. They were buddies. Even our youngest, Kyndra Joy, can impersonate some of her dad’s facial expressions like nobody else. All three of them have an amazing sense of humor that I absolutely love.

Last Father’s Day, their first gift to their “Dada” was a potato they’d drawn a silly face on and meticulously wrapped. It was followed by a t-shirt that read, “My favorite people call me Dad”. I’m not sure which gift Aaron loved more. Unbeknownst to us, that Father’s Day week would be the last time we would all live together with any semblance of “normalcy”. He and I had our struggles until, heartbreakingly, Aaron died by suicide only a few months later.

Needless to say that for nearly the last 12 months, I have looked ahead to the month of June with a bit of a knot in my stomach. There has been uncertainty about how to approach this year – the kids’ first Father’s Day since their dad died. For us, however, there has been nothing more healing than sitting together sharing memories, whether that meant laughing together, crying together, or both. It is exactly why we have found the services at Tu Nidito to be so beneficial. The children and I each have a place there where we can speak Aaron’s name and dedicate some time to share special memories, talk about how our present lives are affected, and even consider things that may come up in the future. Most kids seem to recoil from the notion that there is anything that makes them too different from their peers. Losing a father to suicide is certainly not something that any of their school friends or family members could directly relate to. I credit this organization with giving my kids, and many like them, a safe place to identify and speak up about their true thoughts and feelings, which has played such a vital role in our family’s healthy healing over the many months we have been with them.

Carys, 13 years old

My dad and I shared a love for birds. For Christmas in 2018 I got a cardinal puzzle. It was 3-D, but the instructions were vague and unclear. My dad was very interested in this puzzle and helped me by looking it up online. He told me where each piece could go. We finished it and left it out for everyone to see. We were proud of it. My dad’s name was Aaron. He was a good dad, and I loved him.

Daniel, 11 years old

One of the things I miss most was Dad’s food. He made the best mac and cheese, that stuff was legendary and no other mac and cheese maker could compare. His super good meal was his biscuits and gravy; spicy and peppery, and the biscuits were perfection. And when he made chilaquiles, he would always let me cut tortillas into chip shapes before he fried them.

My dad was a great father, but after he died of suicide lots of things changed. I started to feel left out because I am the only boy in my family now. I also started wishing for him back, and I would try and remember what fun things we did when we were together. I still remember the silly reasons why he would scold us. Also I still remember the great foods he would make. But most importantly, he cared for me and my family.

Kyndra, 8 years old

My dad was so fun! His name was Aaron. He loved hound dogs, so we had three. Every night when I said goodnight, Dada would give me lots of high fives before giving me a poke in the belly. And the memory that keeps playing in my head is his goofy laugh, a really adorable laugh that lit up his whole face!

After hearing each of my children share some of their favorite memories about their father, we all sat surrounded by a flood of emotions. We still have a long road ahead of us as we experience many other firsts in life without him, but I am also confident that they- that we- will all be ok. As a mom that is doing my best to be present with them every day, I am also so proud of them for sitting with the pain long enough to make it to whatever is on the other side of it. I’ve been surprised a number of times at how such intense pain can actually be turned to thankfulness and joy. Of course they will never forget their father, that loss will forever be with them, but likewise, they will never forget these and other very special memories of him. For those close to our family, I would even reassure them that they should not be afraid to speak Aaron’s name to us, since he is never far from our thoughts anyway. We have all learned to press into our faith this year, embrace our own journey, and we have grown closer as a family than I ever knew possible.

– Anita Rubio