January in northwest Ohio was gloomy. It gets dark so early and just makes the evening drag on and on. It was dark, I remember that. I remember Grandma standing in the doorway from the living room to the kitchen. Mom and I were sitting on the sofa. Being 5, and hungry, I asked Grandma what time we were going to have dinner. She said we had to wait until Grandpa came home from Toledo. He had gone to Toledo to pick up parts for a car.
I remember, just as clear as day, saying to Grandma, "He's never coming home."
My grandfather committed suicide that night. He never came home.