The resignation

"When I am afraid, I will trust in you Lord." Psalms 56:3

It was late August, barely a month after my parents had moved into their new home when I received a call that would alter all that I had known of life before. It was early morning and I was preparing for my day when the phone rang. It was my mother, hardly understandable and sobbing. Daddy had left in the middle of the night, leaving a note indicating he was gone for good and had no plans of being found. I felt a lump rise in my throat as my heart simultaneously broke.
I do not have much recollection of how I got to my mother, but I arrived at her house within the hour of the call. She was inconsolable and it was the first time in my life I had felt so helpless. My heart was breaking because when he left her, not to be found, he left all of us. I had to put my own feelings of hurt aside and be her strength and encourager, to somehow remind both of us that God was still in control. I remember so vividly sitting on the couch next to her, holding her hand in those first few hours, trying to help her make sense of it all. I knew their already toxic relationship had become increasingly hostile, and even had some warning signs from daddy, but I never ever thought he would just leave everything.
He had left a list of bills to pay and when, how much money he left her...all of the business of the home that he had taken over years before . His boss called a few hours later, equally perplexed that daddy had left a letter of resignation on his desk in the early hours of the morning mere days before the start of school.
There were hardly any of his personal items gone from either home or work. Some clothes, a few of his guns and camping equipment were gone, but that was all. There was no answer on his cell phone, and mom called many times. Eventually, later that day, he apparently just turned it off.
In the midst of the day as events began to sink in, it became clear why daddy had built their house around the corner from my brother, he had been planning this for some time. It was the only logical conclusion, and realizing that made the sting of heartache even deeper.