August 26, 2000 was a life changing day whether I knew it or not. At two years old I lost my dad to suicide. Everywhere I go I see girls with their dads; at their basketball games cheering them on. Thats all I've ever wanted. When I hear my friends talk about their dads in a negative way I get frustrated, if only they knew the pain of waking up every day knowing they aren't coming back; no matter how much I pray, cry, or get angry.
I will never get to hug my dad, never get to talk to him about my future or how my day was. He’ll never get to walk me down the aisle.
Two years isn't enough time to make memories. His life was cut short.
Sadly he has missed out on a lot in my life that we were supposed to experience and get through together. I would do anything to have my protective, loving dad back.
I can faintly remember him; I do recall when we used to do things together. When our family would go to the beach, the park, museums; we all just wanted to be together. Me and him were outside and I was playing when I got stung by a bee, I remember the love and affection that he gave me. I often wonder at the young age of two if I realized how many things did change. I didn't have my dad anymore. My mom was a completely new person, but it has changed her in a positive way today, she would do anything to protect me, she puts anyone else's happiness before her.
Even though I wasn’t old enough to know exactly what was going on I do remember events from that day. My sister and I were in the house and my mom and dad were outside when it happened.
My mom called 911.
“You girls need to go outside and go to Ricky's,” she said as she pushed us out the door with a worried look in her eyes.
Little did we know she had put us there so we couldn’t see my dad laying on the ground lifeless.
My grandma Sarah and my grandpa were on their way to a job when one of their friends cows were out so they stopped to tell them.
“I just wanted to let you know that one of your cows were out.”
“Thank you. Your oldest daughters name is Elizabeth Sturm, right?”
“Yes. Why?”
“On the scanner it said that there was shots fired at their house.”
My grandma didn't take her time to ask questions, her and my grandpa just took off. When they arrived  there was ambulance and cops questioning my mom. They wouldn’t let her call my other grandma to tell her that her son was dead.
I don't know if it was chance that my grandma Sarah knew before anyone else, but she helped me. She was there for me when my dad couldn't of been. My grandma took me and my sister to her house so we didn’t have to see my dad, no one would move him because it was a “crime scene.”
They thought that my mom had killed him.
It has been 14 years without him by my side helping me through every milestone. It is a struggle everyday, but some how I know that he looks down on me and helps me in a different way that no one else can.