“A Captain Goes Down With His Ship”
This post is not meant to diagnose, treat, or save you from mental illness, if you or someone you love is in danger, please get help. You can text HOME to 741741 to be connected with a crisis counselor. I personally have. You can also call or text 988 for suicide and crisis help.
http://www.cdc.gov/suicide/facts
**Trigger warning: This my story of the day that I lost my father to the lake. It contains no graphic information, but it may be hard for some people to read. This was the day I have come to know as the basis for my PTSD diagnosis. It took me a long time to be in recovery from this day. However, there is something I found soothing: to writing about the last day he was with us. While I reread this story, it’s almost as if I can hold onto him a little longer. Although the ending is not a happy one, my family has healed a lot; we will always be healing.
My treatment plan for PTSD has included:
- Prolonged Exposure (PE): This therapy involves facing and confronting memories and situations you’ve been avoiding.
- Cognitive Processing Therapy (CPT): CPT helps to change negative thoughts and beliefs about the trauma.
- Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR): This is another common type of therapy used for PTSD.
Most people may find it hard to relive the day that caused them so much trauma. There are times when it is hard for me to reread this. But I promise you, it wasn’t hard to get down this story. It wasn’t hard to just type it all out quickly on my phone, no less. Everyone kept asking questions about that day, and while answering short questions, and even some long ones, I couldn’t help but want to tell my story from start to finish. I knew that as time went on, the memories from that day would warp and change in my mind. As with PTSD, I kept replaying the day over and over again in my mind. So, in order to confront the day, and to hold on to those last few memories of my dad, I wrote my story.
It started like any other day at the lake, but it ended like no other day. I woke up to the home security alarm going off, again. This wasn’t uncommon, Mom and Dad weren’t used to having one and it was becoming normal for me to wake up to a phone call from the alarm company. I had pressed my parents to get this alarm to keep my small children from getting up in the morning and wandering out into the lake; every door had an alarm attatched. On this particular morning, Dad had set off the alarm by opening the sliding glass door to take a picture of the sunrise; he never slept very well and always did appreciate a good sunrise. He never even noticed he set off the alarm; he’d finally learned to use the Bose noise canceling headphones Mom and I got him for Christmas. I later found the picture on his iCloud that he took, it was a beautiful sunrise, the last one Dad would ever see; we didn’t know that yet and I pray he didn’t either.
I went back to sleep for a little while after the alarm went off. I awoke slowly this time, hearing noises of the kids talking up stairs. I went up to find Dad and my three year old daughter Rosie talking, most likely about swimming or fishing. She’d been waiting to do both since we got the lake house in November, and since our family wasn’t into ice fishing, she was excited that it was getting warmer. The day before we had all fished off the sun deck for the first time. My husband, Roby, had gotten the kids fishing poles and he and my Dad showed them what it was all about. The kids adored it. So back to the kitchen, I remember starting the coffee pot Mom had prepped the night before, but she had forgotten the water. It sputtered and started gurgling and created a terrible smell of heated plastic. Dad and I joked about what a piece of garbage that coffee pot was. It took me practically half of the morning to make a decent cup; I ended up using the single cup side of the machine and some k-cups Dad and I had bought on one of our “stocking up for the lake house” trips to the store. We had many small trips like that in the recent months, not always for the lake, but we both loved going shopping for supplies of any kind together. I miss those trips.
As I was fiddling with the world’s worst coffee pot, Dad had started making breakfast; even though it was Saturday, he was making pancakes.This was a tradition we usually implemented on Sundays, always marking the end of a long weekend together. As he began laying out his ingredients, I told him he could use the insta-pot for the bacon; “it makes way less mess and cooks faster” I told him. As it was bubbling Dad had tried to put the lid on it to keep the grease from popping out, “oh no no Dad, it’ll really explode if you do that, I got it!” I said. “Silly Dad” I thought to myself. He then turned the front burner of the stove on too high and fried the sausage patties into hockey pucks: oops. Dad joked that he just couldn’t find his groove that morning. I told him “it’s okay Dad, it’s not you, it’s the house”. We had a running joke lately about the quirks of the place: electrical issues, the pantry door falling off, the giant sliding door sticking and taking all of your strength to open, little things. One of the things I knew was always an issue was that damn front burner of the stove, it wanted to either be stone cold, or piping hot, no in between.
Since Dad had burned the sausage patties, I got out the second package Beans had bought. She had made her way upstairs around the same time he burned the first batch. “Well thank goodness I bought two packs” she said with a hint of sarcasm, “silly dad” her and I both thought secretly through a quick glance at one another. I knew we’d need a little more sausage than just one package, because I knew my kids would eat most of the bacon and rip right through the patties as well. There were 8 of us all together: My Mom and Dad, My brother Evan, his fiancé Beans (Breanna), my husband Roby and I, plus our two kids Bert and Rosie. So I quickly thawed a package of Pettisville links Dad and I had purchased from one of our big meat store trips; we got our license plates for our trucks that day too. They were just one digit off of each other and I was so proud of us: him for finally getting a new truck and me for finally having both of my vehicles officially in my name. Dad had given me his used truck and I was beyond humbled and excited. Dad cooked the pancakes and the kids came and sat at the barstools at the kitchen counter and ate the first two plates of Captain’s breakfast. They called him Captain as another running joke in our family, who loves nicknames. My Dad’s name was Kirk, so “Captain” (Kirk) became the nickname I taught them to call him, he loved it and so did they.
Around the time breakfast was done, my son Burt woke up and came out on tippy toes to the kitchen. I carefully made the kids plate first and sat them down on the barstools at the counter. As Dad was still finishing breakfast I made my own plate and sat down with my, finally made, coffee at the kitchen table. I had a mug that read “all star Dad” and I pulled out my phone and took a picture. Only a few moments later, my husband made his way up stairs. As per usual, Dad just kept on pumping out pancakes. Roby got a plate, filled it, and came to the table to sit with me. Before he sat down, I asked Roby to go tell Beans that breakfast was ready. She had gone back downstairs to her room to do some homework; she’s going back to school to be a nurse practitioner. Roby went and got her and the three of us ate breakfast at the table and watched Dad finish the pancakes. We saw no use in waking Mom and Evan, they are very alike in the fact that they love to sleep in late and boy are they good at it.
After breakfast, Evan eventually came upstairs and got a plate. I got the kids dressed for the day and then began cleaning up breakfast. I then started cleaning the house. We were having Mom and Dads friends and their older kids come up the next day and I wanted the place to look its best. We had gotten the lake house in November, it was now March, the first day of spring, and we hadn’t had friends up yet to see the place. We had slowly but surely gotten furniture, decor and other household items to fill it and it was finally coming together like a true vacation home. As I cleaned, Roby and Evan got to work building a transom for the row boat (the piece of wood that the motor sits on to attach to the boat). Years ago Dad had bought an outboard motor from our lifelong neighbor; I grew up on the same street my Dad grew up on. So as the boys worked, I cleaned and this was typical; I love cleaning. I made my way outside for a bit that afternoon and raked the front flower bed and blew some leaves. Mom was sitting on the porch and Dad was poking around helping the boys and handing them tools and safety glasses for cutting the wood. I remember Dad telling Mom: “aren’t you happy all your kids are working for ya? Look at em go!” Mom beamed a big silly smile and Dad grinned happily at his slightly sarcastic comment. He knew we were doing it somewhat for her, but mostly for ourselves, we wanted to work towards all of the things the lake house could offer us. I miss that smile of his, the one he used right after making a funny: cheeky and wide so you could slightly see the inside of his cheeks; Rosie smiles like that when she’s proud of herself.
The day wore on and I found myself cleaning for most of it; scrubbing all the cabinets, cleaning windows, mirrors, counters, toilets (3), floors, making beds, and doing laundry, vacuuming was the last thing I did. When I turned off the vacuum Roby came to ask how I was, we plopped down on the couch downstairs and looked out through the giant sliding glass door at the lake. “Are you okay?” He asked. “You seem kinda serious up here all the time, like you’re not really having that much fun.” I pondered that for a moment, I was fine and happy, but yes the lake did bare a lot of responsibility for me. I worried about the kids and the water, the up keep, the groceries, the cooking, the cleaning, and the new big boat Mom and Dad had just bought: a “party barge” pontoon. To be honest I didn’t want to be the most responsible person on the “party barge” while others drank and enjoyed themselves as I worried about what could happen if they fell in the water drunk. Being in YMCA lifeguard training in my late teens had given me an awareness: just because you can save someone, doesn’t mean you want to. Saving people is extremely hard; being safe while you’re near the water is better than reacting to disaster in the moment. I told Roby that I really was okay and I meant it. “I’m just adjusting, it’s hard having a second house to clean and for the kids to adjust to” I told him. “Well let’s make dinner together before I have to go home!” He said optimistically. He’s always so good at looking on the bright side and he knows I love cooking with him. “I’ll start the pork chops on the grill so your Dad doesn’t have to and they’ll get done faster” he commented with a sly smile. My Dad is known for being a grillmaster, but also for being a notoriously slow cooker. Roby didn’t have a lot of time to sit around and wait for dinner that night, he had to go home and get ready for work in the early morning.
Roby grilled pork chops on the balcony, as I made the sides in the house. While I had been cleaning that day Roby and Evan had taken the row boat, now a motor boat since they had mounted it successfully, out on the lake. Then Evan took Mom on a ride around the small inland lake, then he took Beans out. Evan had asked if the kids could go and I had replied “No they don’t have their puddle jumpers (swim vests) here yet and it’s just much too cold”. Evan countered me with “we could try the life jackets we have here, sinch them up real tight and try it out”. “No, not today.” I said sternly but politely declining, he obviously just wanted to be a good Uncle and take the kids for a ride, I loved that. But I was motherly firm in my decision to keep them on dry land that day.
They had asked me at one point if I’d wanted to go for a ride too, but I didn’t. I hate being cold and my back was already hurting; between being a hands on Mom and cleaning all day, my back was at its usual locked tight position and I was ready to relax. The idea of sitting on a cold metal boat and cruising across the, recently thawed, lake seemed terrible. It was the first day of spring though, it was a nice day, just over 60° and they were excited. I tried to understand, but I declined the offer without a second thought about it. I hate being cold. When dinner was ready, I called everyone in and started making plates for the kids. We had seasoned pork chops, parmesan asparagus, baked beans and instant mashed potatoes; the kitchen smelled devine. As I was scooping Bert’s potatoes, Dad came to the front door and spoke to me through the foyer, “hey will you make me a plate real quick and bring it downstairs? I’m going to eat it real fast and go out for a quick boat ride”. “No” I responded immediately, baffled. “That’s silly, either come eat with us or I’ll save you a plate.” I was taken back that he didn’t want to come eat with all of us, we just cooked a full meal and Roby was leaving soon. But he was so excited to go out on the boat, to get out on the lake for the first time that season, our first season there. Only a few other boats were on the water that day and he was proud to go be one of them. Since we didn’t have insurance yet on the “party barge”, the motor boat would do just fine.
Dad got his heavy Carhart winter jacket on and got into the boat just as we were all sitting down to eat. From the kitchen table, our view looks directly down to the beach, the dock area, and out across the water. We all saw Dad get into the boat and try to start it. He was struggling to stand up and yank the pull start at the same time, while not capsizing it. At just over 6 foot tall, and just over 50 years old, it wasn’t easy for him to yank on the motor and keep his feet planted and steady on the small vessel. Dad’s legs just weren’t as strong as they used to be and he’d been having pains in them lately. As the rest of us began eating our dinner, Evan got up from his dinner plate, went outside and walked down to the shoreline to help Dad, but he mostly just teased him playfully. “If you can’t start it, you can’t ride it!” Evan joked. This was a phrase we’d used many times in our lives regarding all things with a motor; we grew up on motorcycles, go karts, and jet skis. “Give me three tries,” Dad said. He wasn’t willing to let Evan take over just yet. I watched from the kitchen table upstairs as Dad rocked the boat unsteadily back and forth as he yanked on the motor. We couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying, but at one point, Evan looked back up at us with a sly smile “silly dad” he exchanged with us in an unspoken glance.
Evan stood on the shoreline with Dad and his boat just out of reach and he attempted to help, giving Dad instructions but also teasing him. “Come on Dad let me help you, I’ll go with you” he seemed to be saying. But Dad persisted and on the second try, the motor roared to life. Evan shrugged and turned back to the house, Dad seemed to have it under control. We all turned back to our dinner and I made a “silly dad” joke. When Evan returned to the table I made another joke: “hey Evan, think is Dad gonna get a DUI out on the water?” “He just might.” Evan said jokingly, while giving me slightly serious eyes. We finished dinner and Beans and I started cleaning up our dishes, rinsing them and putting them in the dishwasher. “What if he runs out of gas?” Beans said, commenting that Dad had been gone quite a while. I was used to Dad leaving, going to the store for a quick trip and being absent for hours instead of minutes. “He‘ll be okay,” I said, “He’s got his phone.” We then put a plate together for Dad, a stack of leftover pork chops, some asparagus and SO many baked beans! Beans and I laughed about how many beans there were! “Dad’ll eat em!” I said smiling, he always loved my cooking and I knew he’d eat whatever I put on his plate.
I was still chuckling a little, when I turned and saw the lights: the street across the small lake was flashing red and blue. They were cop cars, two or three of them. I was very unsure of why they were there, but Beans saw them too, her and I exchanged curious, worried glances. As I quickly reached to grab the binoculars, I looked down at my son standing next to me with big round brown, innocent, curious eyes. He probably wondered what we were looking at. I swiftly set the binoculars back on the counter, we kept them there for bird watching, and changed my demeanor from frazzled and curious, to upbeat and motherly. “Come on guys, grab your tablets and come to your room! Let’s have some tablet time before bed. We’re all done with dinner, come on let’s go. I”ll let you have a treat in your room and I’ll put a show on too!” I said as joyfully as possible. I can’t even remember if I put a show on for them or if Beans did, but by some unsaid understanding, she too encouraged and bribed them to go into their room.
Once the kids were in their room I immediately ran back to the kitchen and grabbed the binoculars again. Peering out across the lake I couldn’t make much sense of why the police were there, I just saw squad cars, flashing lights and a few people standing on the shoreline with two or three officers. I ran to the side kitchen door that leads out to a balcony that also overlooks the lake, Evan hot on my tail. He jumped out of the door behind me and heavily gasped “that’s OUR boat”. It was then that I saw it, upside down and just a few yards from the adjacent shoreline: the motor boat, upside down. My brain worked to piece out what I was looking at and what that meant. Evan sprinted to the garage to grab a life jacket and an oar and then bounded hurriedly to the beach and prepped the canoe, he was going after the boat. “Stay there!” Someone yelled from across the water “there’s nothing you can do” the voice said. Evan mumbled loudly “I can’t hear you, I’m coming”. My brain began to catch up. Mom came out from the downstairs porch, she was smoking her after dinner cigarette and had heard the commotion. “What’s going on?” she said worriedly. “Go back in the house Mom, I don’t know yet.” I told her. “No I’m not going inside, what’s going on?” she asked, starting to panic. “I don’t know yet Mom”. Roby helped Evan shove off in the canoe, all the while wondering if he should go with him or stay behind with me and the kids. “What do I do Lauren?” Mom asked. “I don’t know yet Mom, just go inside, I’ll find out”. “I’m not fucking going inside! What’s happening?” “I don’t know Mom, the boats flipped over, I don’t know yet.” I said, still trying to stay calm. My brain didn’t have enough information to panic, but Mom’s panicking worried me, I wanted everyone to stay calm. “G-go, g-g-get the car, drive over there” I sputtered pointing to the other side of the lake. “I- I don’t know how, where I’m going” she stammered. “Roby” I said stunned. We were all still facing the lake, facing the scene that we couldn’t make out. “Roby, take her over there” I told him without pulling my eyes away from the boat. “Pull up the map on your phone, and drop a pin on the other side of the lake and follow it until you see the cop cars.” I instructed. “Go talk to the police,” I told my mom.
As Roby and Mom scrambled to find the keys to the last vehicle in the driveway, my brain went back to my kids. At that exact moment, as if called upon, Beans was at my side. “Please go check on the kids” I said in a daze. She immediately responded and went back inside. I stood on the hill that runs from the lake house to the beach, I slowly made my way down the hill, it was getting dark and it was getting cold. I didn’t know what had happened or what was happening. Something primal and instinctual took over me and I screamed as loud as I possibly could “DAAADDD!!” and found no answer, just an echo of my own blood curdling scream. I let out another howl: “DAAAAAADD” this one more drawn out and panicked. I just wanted him to answer me, maybe he was on shore just cold and wet, maybe I didn’t need to let go of him just yet. I must’ve called his name to the lake, to the world, at least two or three more times before my new reality began to sink in, but I didn’t want to accept it yet. I still had some hope left in me. This wasn’t part of my story, this wasn’t part of our story, something silly happening, yes, all the time, but nothing this horrific and permanent. Without any real self control, I folded to the ground on my knees, I squeezed my hands together as hard as I could, and I said the Lord’s prayer to the lake. “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For Thine is the Kingdom, the power and the glory, forever and ever. Amen.” I recited as my Grandmother taught me when I was young.
I stood up calmly and Beans appeared from the house. Everything after that seemed to move in slow motion. I asked her to call Evan and when he answered he said “he’s in the water…He’s under the water”. We pressed him for more information but he said “sorry, I’m busy” and hung up the phone. We could see Evan from shore, he had made it across the lake and was on across the water, on shore with his canoe. Someone must’ve helped him pull it up. I was getting cold and I wanted to check on the kids, so I went back inside after a coat. My Dad’s old work coat was hanging in the front closet and I put it on, beginning to realize that he’d never wear it again. I looked down the hallway and saw the kids quietly watching tv in their room, I was glad they were happily occupied. I slowly made my way down to the lake and Beans was waiting for me on the sun deck, where just the day before my Dad and Roby had shown the kids how to fish. I got on my knees and buried my head in my hands. I began to breathe very slowly, letting it all sink in, and letting nothing sink in at the same time. Beans was so quiet and I remember telling her how good she was at not saying anything. “I can say something if you want me to.” she hurried to respond. “No, no, I like it, the quiet. I appreciate it right now.” And I did, I appreciated that in that moment, we didn’t have to face it yet. We didn’t have to think about the “what” that had just happened and how Dad was gone. We just sat there in silence, as the sun set and the sky grew dark.
-A Manic Monday
Article: Toledo man drowned on Lake LeAnn after boat capsized Saturday. SOMERSET NEWS — The body of a Toledo, Ohio, man who drowned Saturday after his fishing boat capsized on Lake LeAnn Saturday evening was recovered early Sunday by divers. Authorities identified the man as 54-year-old Kirk Edward Monday. His daughter, Lauren, said he was taking his small fishing boat out for a spin around the lake Saturday, as she was preparing supper. “He asked me to make him a plate,” she said. First-responders from multiple agencies responded to the 11000 block of Bradley Drive around 8 p.m. Saturday. A witness saw Monday go underwater after the boat overturned. A rescue boat from Liberty Township Fire Department was deployed to search for Monday, as others joined the Somerset Township Fire Department, donning ice rescue suits to search the frigid water in a wide channel behind residential homes. Michigan State Police and Hillsdale County Sheriff’s Office Dive Team assisted at the scene.
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