*Edited for appropriateness
Dad,
Im so sorry for staying mad at you so much of the time during my adolescent years. I just loved you so much. And I wanted so badly for you to love me. I wanted you to be proud of me. I wanted to spend time with you. I remember our things: you scratching my back with hair brushes...candy cigarettes...bubble gum...looking for fishing lures in the creek...painting the Dream together...fishing on the Dream...catching more crappie than you (once)...You always cut up my steak for me...you were the best cook...k-bobs and fried potatoes...perfect fried eggs...you did everything so well. You were so talented. So loved by all around you. You always fixed my car for me...gave me money for things I needed any chance you had. You always cooked salt bacon for me. :)
I was too hard on you daddy. I am sorry. Please forgive me.
You were my hero when I was a little girl. I remember saying to my mom constantly that I wanted to be with you because you were my favorite person in the whole world. I'll never forget my memories with you. I treasure them in my heart every day.
I can't believe i'm here without you.
I need you dad.
Why are you gone so soon?
I need you to be a grandfather to my children. Emily loves you so much. And you loved her so much. Now she will never know you beyond pictures and memories from mommy.
My heart is broken. It was such a shock. So unexpected. Were you sick? Were you hurting? Were you suffering and you just didn't want anyone to worry? Was it unhappiness that took you? I'm only 22. I'm just a young lady. I'm supposed to have my daddy to call and make me laugh. You always could. You sang silly songs to me, teased me, and spoiled me as much as you could. You came to eat lunch with me and 100 other elementary school children a lot. Now that's love.
You loved me even when I was pregnant at 19 with Emily. And you fell in love with her the moment you met her. You held her for me when she was 5 weeks old so that I could go out on the boat and have some "me" time. You walked her around outside and talked to her about nature to keep her happy. You did that again when she was two. She loved going on walks with you. You were going to buy her a lifetime fishing and hunting license. Anderson, too. I just wish she could have more memories with you.
I wish so many things dad.
I know that you weren't perfect. No one is. But you loved me. I know you did.
I just want to talk to you again. To hear your voice--your chuckle about "washing rusty" or tell me to learn to pronounce "tires" correctly-- "tars". You used to tell me that when people die, they have "passed over" or "expired". I guess that is what I can say about you.
I talk to Emily about you almost every day. I promised you at your funeral while standing over you in that casket (all of that you would have hated...i'm sorry) that I would never let your memory die and that I will pass it on to my kids. Anderson will have your fishing rod. Jonathan promises to teach him to fish. I will tell my kids stories about you.
Thank you for everything that you did for me.
And the things you didn't do--I forgive you.
I miss you every day. I talk to you in my car...in the shower...and at night after the kids go to bed. The tears seem to have no end. But they are therapeautic. I know you wouldn't want me to cry for you. I can't help it. I love you more than I ever realized when you were with me. And that makes me sad. I have your picture on my refrigerator, by the front door, and in my headboard. I have a few things of yours in a ziploc bag in my bedroom. When the pain overtakes me, I pull out that bag cling tightly to your torn handkerchief or your pocketknife--it's all I have.
Aunt Missy just told me that the old widder woman passed away today. I bet she is embracing you with arms open wide. And I bet she can see you clearly. Finally--sight.
I'm here thinking about you every day.
I'll carry you with me, daddy.
Always.
Amanda Kate
Dad,
Im so sorry for staying mad at you so much of the time during my adolescent years. I just loved you so much. And I wanted so badly for you to love me. I wanted you to be proud of me. I wanted to spend time with you. I remember our things: you scratching my back with hair brushes...candy cigarettes...bubble gum...looking for fishing lures in the creek...painting the Dream together...fishing on the Dream...catching more crappie than you (once)...You always cut up my steak for me...you were the best cook...k-bobs and fried potatoes...perfect fried eggs...you did everything so well. You were so talented. So loved by all around you. You always fixed my car for me...gave me money for things I needed any chance you had. You always cooked salt bacon for me. :)
I was too hard on you daddy. I am sorry. Please forgive me.
You were my hero when I was a little girl. I remember saying to my mom constantly that I wanted to be with you because you were my favorite person in the whole world. I'll never forget my memories with you. I treasure them in my heart every day.
I can't believe i'm here without you.
I need you dad.
Why are you gone so soon?
I need you to be a grandfather to my children. Emily loves you so much. And you loved her so much. Now she will never know you beyond pictures and memories from mommy.
My heart is broken. It was such a shock. So unexpected. Were you sick? Were you hurting? Were you suffering and you just didn't want anyone to worry? Was it unhappiness that took you? I'm only 22. I'm just a young lady. I'm supposed to have my daddy to call and make me laugh. You always could. You sang silly songs to me, teased me, and spoiled me as much as you could. You came to eat lunch with me and 100 other elementary school children a lot. Now that's love.
You loved me even when I was pregnant at 19 with Emily. And you fell in love with her the moment you met her. You held her for me when she was 5 weeks old so that I could go out on the boat and have some "me" time. You walked her around outside and talked to her about nature to keep her happy. You did that again when she was two. She loved going on walks with you. You were going to buy her a lifetime fishing and hunting license. Anderson, too. I just wish she could have more memories with you.
I wish so many things dad.
I know that you weren't perfect. No one is. But you loved me. I know you did.
I just want to talk to you again. To hear your voice--your chuckle about "washing rusty" or tell me to learn to pronounce "tires" correctly-- "tars". You used to tell me that when people die, they have "passed over" or "expired". I guess that is what I can say about you.
I talk to Emily about you almost every day. I promised you at your funeral while standing over you in that casket (all of that you would have hated...i'm sorry) that I would never let your memory die and that I will pass it on to my kids. Anderson will have your fishing rod. Jonathan promises to teach him to fish. I will tell my kids stories about you.
Thank you for everything that you did for me.
And the things you didn't do--I forgive you.
I miss you every day. I talk to you in my car...in the shower...and at night after the kids go to bed. The tears seem to have no end. But they are therapeautic. I know you wouldn't want me to cry for you. I can't help it. I love you more than I ever realized when you were with me. And that makes me sad. I have your picture on my refrigerator, by the front door, and in my headboard. I have a few things of yours in a ziploc bag in my bedroom. When the pain overtakes me, I pull out that bag cling tightly to your torn handkerchief or your pocketknife--it's all I have.
Aunt Missy just told me that the old widder woman passed away today. I bet she is embracing you with arms open wide. And I bet she can see you clearly. Finally--sight.
I'm here thinking about you every day.
I'll carry you with me, daddy.
Always.
Amanda Kate
I feel for you, sweetie. My dad has been gone for 15 years this December and I miss him, even though we had our share of trouble. And he lived to be 74 - I didn't lose him at such a young age. There was a lot of anger I had toward him when I was younger, because he was a difficult dad to all of us. Sounds similar to what you are expressing. My great regret is that he didn't live to see me get sober. How I wish I could have had some time with him without the drinking. Unfortunately, that came 3 years after he was gone. I have a lot of regret and shame about that, and there is nothing I can do about it. Except know that he is looking down on me and knows that I am happier and healthier. Time does make the pain bearable. Most of all, I think you have to forgive yourself. There is nothing you feel that isn't normal and a part of losing someone. We always wish we could have a second chance and do things better. That's why I praise Jesus - because I will see Dad again...as a sober angel!! ;)
ReplyDeleteJust know that you aren't alone in this kind of loss. Forgive yourself and let time and God heal your heart.
Can't wait to see you in May!!
Love,
Aunt Reith