This Memorial site is for my Dad, Benny E. Riggins who was born on September 01, 1947 and passed away on July 20, 1985 at the age of 37, from suicide due to PTSD "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder."

My Dad ended his life on July 20, 1985. It really ended somewhere in Vietnam. I will always hurt that "somewhere" in Vietnam, lay part of my Dad. 

I will always think that Vietnam took part of him  from me and never allowed me to know the man everyone else knew before the war - even though I don't think I could or would have loved him any more or less. My Daddy never regained the sweet, mischievous, love of life personality he was known for after returning from Vietnam. 

As a child I always knew there was a deep lying pain that he could or would ever escape. I could see it in his eyes, his daily expressions, the way he carried himself - at night in his dreams (the nightmares). Though few saw the work of the war on my Dad because he kept it hidden behind secure walls. Or maybe they did not want to see it, because it was as evident to me, whether in our home or while around family and friends. It was always there in his eyes and weighing heavily on his shoulders. He maintained his composure well outside of our home. I often wonder if that did not hurt him? That no one saw or acknowledged the pain he was in and had  been suffering for years. 

As I look at his pictures. The increasing sadness and deterioration with time is apparent. A happy, tender, full-of-life man slowly turned into a haunted and empty shell. The smiles he once would struggle to show became stiff and grimacing - eventually the tender, loving man became a man full of anger and rage that had, through the years of torture, turned to drinking which progressed as well - trying to seek any form of peace from his own mind and thoughts. 

There is a pride when I see and think of him in his uniform and in the pictures that show the handsome man with a sparkle in his eyes or a  smile especially that mischievous grin he had. But at the same time I feel enormous pain because I never knew that young man or soldier that was my Father. I only knew the pained Dad who I watched fight daily to keep his balance in life. I’ve talked to some of my Dad’s friends. I'm told he was handsome, happy-go-lucky, devilish, mischievous, full of life and looking forward to his future. Then, shortly thereafter he got out of school and was drafted. Was he even then, struggling to find his way? 

My memories are bitter/sweet, when I think of Daddy. I have a love and pride that nothing could ever take from me, but also there is anger and questions of why he was made to suffer so unjustly. What made him the man who I feared? Who just couldn’t take control of his life? Even at 10 years old and younger, I saw and felt the demons that haunted him. Unfortunately, the demons he couldn't countrol invaded my mother's and my life. 

The few pictures I have of him inspire, sadden and haunt me. Who was he? Due to PTSD my Dad was never a totally functioning person – he brought the war home with him and in our home. He was able to work and own an aspiring business for a time– but not able to function as a whole and loving human being. The pain that I saw was horrible and forever will haunt me.  When Daddy died I felt a sense of relief it was finally over - his pain had finally ended - living in fear had ended for myself and my Mom. But my heart will always cry for the man that died thinking he was not deserving of love and that his own daughter could and did not love him for his acts.  No one deserves to die that way.  Even in the happy moments, I knew there was pain that he would probably never overcome. It was hard growing up and not understanding how such a loving, talented and wonderful person could have monsters that controlled him and that he would never overcome them. 

The PTSD "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder" fed his alcoholism which fed the monsters. Dad tried to stop drinking many times. But the underlying issues that were never addressed would keep him from (having) a moment of peace from his own mind. I pray that he finally has (the) peace he deserves and does not feel or remember a moment of the pain or torment he felt while living with me. 

Due to my own battles with PTSD and addiction, I now have a better understanding of what my Dad went through. God Bless Him!

Daddy if you had only known the Love I have for you now and had then. 
With all my love, 
I miss you so very much!
 Love your Monkey!

Once his Angel Now He's Mine.

Meet Reid Allen you grandson Daddy that 
looks, acts more like you than even I do!
Scary isn't it!
We love you,  Reid Rat and Monkey!


    



Love your Monkey!































This is my favorite picture.  I cry every time I look at it.  My Mom and Dad like I never saw.  Beautiful.








Do you see what I see.......
















This picture shows him just as I loved with his grin!