"He's gone," these words can mean all kinds of things for billions of different people, but when they talked to me on the night of December 7, 2005, they had only one meaning, one meaning of one simple sentence consisting of two simple words that completely destroyed My picture perfect life. The power of these two words was incredible, crushing my heart, destroying my faith and breaking the hope of love in my life. I could never trust anyone while I live on this planet. Two simple words: "he is gone", spoken to me with such ease that they cut me like strong, strong sharp blades and tore my soul until it bleed and died. "He was gone" took every tear in my little ten-year-old body and poured them into an endless stream of flawless pain and loss. "He's gone" is repeated over and over in my head as I seek an answer in this terrible never-ending nightmare of life. He "left" happened on an ordinary but unforgettable December day like any other, but he tore it up and twisted my life until there was nothing but an empty hole in the little girl's heart that could never be fulfilled. Is gone?
Richmond's strong smell was not like any regular hospital, but it was much worse. It didn't look like a hospital, it smelled like one, and no doubt people were sick. It was not the same kind of illness I was familiar with. These patients weren't cut, bleeding, wounded or broken … where I saw. Two weeks passed without seeing my father, since that awful night, October 21, 2005. I had so many questions, but my mom said they were behaving normally, so we upset my father. We walked through the empty rooms of the hospital until my father's face woke from the darkness to greet the life he had left. His face appeared in front of me, just like I remembered … this wasn't my dad, not at all. No, my dad always smiled, joyfully, witty and kindly. He was the perfect dad every little girl had dreamed of. The man sitting in front of me was dead. He was lost without hope, very alive and breathing, but he was dead. It was as if his soul had been taken away from him, and now he was a dead corpse. The doctors all explained as clearly as possible that my father was ill, only it was kind of ill that you couldn't see the eyes and the sick that couldn't be cured by the bandage or some loving care from your mom. He was diagnosed with clinical depression, these words meant nothing to a ten-year-old who only cared about her father's pride in life or finished homework on time, was it never even if you had a father you were proud of? & # 39; “The more the doctor explained, the more he began to make sense. He also explained what happened before Dad left, the night his depression "took him".
Dad was gone all day. We didn't know where he went, and he didn't like it at all. In fact, it was so unlike him that it frightened us to think about what might happen. My mom had some ideas. She checked some of her father's place on her credit card. We found that on October 21, my dad went to South Carolina (approximately two hours from home in Georgia) and bought a gun. Out of the terrible fear in my mother's eyes, I could tell when she exploded from the office that it wasn't good. We never needed a reason to call the police before.
In a few minutes my mom let the South Carolina police search for my father; he was placed in a hotel room near Calhoun Falls, a quiet city where he had to make a strategic decision to escape. I curled up in my parents & # 39; a bed with her sister and brother, while the emergency nanny waited for my mom and dad to return. I fell asleep and dreamed of the days when my dad and I trained basketball. We spent hours and hours shooting hoops, dribbling, passing and defending. As a coach of every basketball, football and softball team I was involved with in my childhood, my dad certainly liked sports. For every point I scored I could count on being on the edge and encouraging me. After a successful victory, my dad and I went to dinner and enjoyed a winning chocolate cocktail. He looked at me and said, "Throw me the ball and watch what I'm doing!" With a huge smile on his face. It seemed to me that those days would never end, that he would be here forever and by my side. I dreamed of running to a place where there was no pain, no loss, no frightening thoughts of not coming back, no fear and certainly no crying. In a place like this, I never had to worry about my life falling apart and my country being pulled out from under my stable, credible feet. I dreamed to look into his eyes again, knowing he would be fine. I dreamed of a world where there was no illness or a kind of "sick" you couldn't see, no depression or injuries. I dreamed that I was sitting on the wide open landscape, staring into the dark, sad, starry night.
I dreamed of the night that my dad and I drove everywhere and anywhere until we ended up in the middle of nowhere. We looked at the sky and I looked at it, was deep in thought about something and, oddly enough, I knew exactly what he was thinking. When I looked at the stars, I wondered where they came from, where we came from, and where we left when we left. "What do you think will happen … if you die?" I said.
"What do you think?" he replied.
"Well, I'd like to think we're going to be stars," I said as we both gazed aimlessly at the night sky. “Once we die, we go to the sky for all the people who have ever loved us to look at them and think about and remember. "
“When I'm gone, you just look at the sky and promise to be there, I look down at you with a smile. I will shine there brighter than any other star in the sky, just for you. ”… he said with a smile.
I woke up in my father's arms as he gently laid me on the bed and without a word came out of my room and closed the door, when I wanted nothing more, he locked me out of life rather than that. If I wanted nothing but answers, he couldn't even hear my angry shouts for help and hear him say, "I'll be here forever and always a little girl," as he always told me. That night she died with all hope that my father was fine when he arrived the next day and he was checked into the hospital. I didn't know what made him run away, what made him buy the gun, or why he was ill, but I hoped and prayed for him to improve soon so I could get my father back. At this point in my life, I wanted nothing more than to have it forever and always, exactly as promised.
Two months without my dad tearing me around. That made me realize how he really meant for me and how much I was dependent on him. Life without him is like going to a dark room that didn't know where to go, what to think, or how I got there. You don't know where to turn or what to do. Life without my father is like waking up from a nightmare and realizing that everything you just dreamed in your mind was real. Without him, I had no hope, no dreams, no happiness, no joy, no laughter, no smile; it lived lifeless. After two months, feeling like a dark trick God was playing, my dad returned.
My father's return was not a return at all. He came back, but he wasn't the same. In fact, he didn't get better … he got worse in the hospital. Depression took him completely and killed the man we all loved and missed; it made him live in the pain of dying again and again. This dark illness, of which I knew nothing, killed my father. He was a good man, he didn't deserve to die. I never knew anyone to die. I've never seen anyone before the end of my life, but sometimes I've been wondering what it would be like to lose someone. The only thing I remembered was that I took my arm off my body, you always feel like it's there, but if you really needed it, it wouldn't be there at all and would never come back. When I really needed my father, he was always there, no matter what it was, I could only look at him and see the love behind his eyes. Now that he was ill, when I looked into his eyes, I saw only death. I saw the death of each day we spent together, every time he promised to be here forever, every warm embrace of his never-ending embraces, the comfort of knowing that I always had someone who unconditionally loved me and the death of my father.
Wednesday, December 7, 2005 5:45 PM, a police resident reports 3 shots from missiles and strange shouts coming from 244 lane west, Alpharetta Georgia. Inside the abandoned house, investigators discovered a 47-year-old man in the living room of a cool abandoned house, completely soaked in blood and holding a gun. He died. At 17:41 a man shot on a target that he drew on the wall. 5:43 the next shot disappears and hits the target exactly in the center. 5:45 the man shot himself in the chest and fell to the ground for later discovery on Wednesday, December 7, 2005 at 6:08 pm.
Mark Joseph Beausir was a man who proved to be a wonderfully successful father of three children. He was a good man and a caring and faithful husband of Amy Beausir. He was CEO of a successful software company in Alpharetta, Georgia. Six feet Six inches, standing high and close to God. He was a big guy with a heart that could only be compared to the size of his smile. Mark provided his family well and was always involved in his church and children. lives. He attended the church every Sunday and was a coach for each team his three children were involved with. Every chance he was given showed love to the people that mattered, and even more to the people who didn't care. Mark had a huge family with so much love and even more heart. He was a beautiful man and lived a beautiful, incredible life.
Born on 14 August 1958, died 47 years later on 7 December 2005, Mark lived only a short time. Forty-seven years of pure love, laughter and time, 24719556 minutes, 1779848640 heart beats, 296438400 breaths, 121 liters of tears, 38352 hours of computer use, 46318400 walking steps, 20160 minutes of kissing, 10,000 chocolate bars, 150 pounds of sugar ate .. For this particular person, 4 broken hearts plus one broken promise. Looking back at my father's life, he wouldn't remember any of that. We thought of him and thought of all the love he gave us and how much he touched our lives. The average person is expected to live at the age of 72. This man was missing 25 Christmas holidays, 25 Valentine's days, 3 sweet sixteen parties, 2 girls 'weddings' weddings, 1 boy growing up in a man, graduation from three very successful college students he helped raise, victory score, school record for girls broke & # 39; high jump, 7 stitches and 3 twisted ankles, missed the broken heart of a sad teenage girl and broke the face of one disappointing teenage boy, missed teaching his kids how to ride for the first time, meet new friends and hate old friends and missed when he saw the first steps of his grandchildren and spoiled them rotten, they lacked a new joke and thought about the old ones, he missed seeing his children grow and, above all, we missed him.
The average person spends laughing 63 hours a year, Mark was an exceptional person, but he still had 99225 hours of endless laughter. Mark still had 788923150 seconds of life to live, but his life was taken from him by this heartbreaking darkness that we called disease. He left me behind, but I know deep in my heart, he will always be by my side. I hope to see him again someday and I like to think he's still looking at me like he said.
There are more than 100 billion stars in our universe. A new class of Supergiant Binary stars was discovered on December 7, 2005. There was one special among these stars. It was the greatest giant, the brightest binary star ever discovered. The scientists were amazed by this discovery and called it "The Pistol Star." It had a solar mass of 80-150 and shone brighter than any other star in the sky, a real miracle.
On Tuesday, December 7, 2010, five years have passed since my dad died, and he still feels like the same wound opens every day. I lay in bed and dreamed. He dreams of you, of a wonderful father I have lost and will miss forever. He dreams of endless life without fear and pain. He dreams of days when the sun will never stop shining and you will be by my side. I dreamed of the day you drove everywhere and anywhere until we ended up in a place called nowhere. Where I looked into the sky at the shining stars and wished you stayed here forever. I looked at you and asked what happened when we died. You looked me straight in the eye and said, “When I'm gone, you just look at the sky and promise to be there, I look down at you with a smile. I will shine brighter than any star in the sky, just for you. "A bright and famous pistol star still shines to this day, brighter than any other star in our galaxy. It was born on December 7, 2005 … the day you died.