Afternoon Thoughts

Letter to My Father

Hi Dad,

Even if I were allowed to, I would never show you this letter of such harsh words; I know it would break you.

I don't hardly know what to say.

I... I do love you, but goodness gracious there were times you made my life hell.

My first memory is of you rocking my to sleep against your chest in the dark living room. I was probably just a year old. But after that, my next memory of you was when I was maybe seven.

I hate this.

It was night and Mom was taking a shower. My sisters and I were with you downstairs. I don't know why, but you were so angry with me. Or perhaps you were just angry in general, and I was there. You threw me on the ground as you stood over me. But I didn't think of myself, all I cared about was picking up my sisters and running them upstairs. We banged on the bathroom door, and Mom let us in.

I never knew with you, whether you would be angry or kind.

I was so confused. When we were sick, you were extremely gentle and attentive. Perhaps that gentleness was because your parents neglected you. I know you're better than your parents, and I try to convince myself that is what counts.

But you broke my heart.

Only you have ever broken my heart.

Mom was having a coughing fit, as she often does, and had to go to the car during that dinner party. I went with her, bringing her water, but the car was locked. You handed me the keys from your pocket. When I came back to Mom, do you know what she asked? She said, "did he ask about me?" And I had to tell her no. No. She wasn't surprised (I don't think), but she didn't speak as she looked down. And I felt a chasm form in my chest.

Going back further, when I was sixteen and mom was sick. I had been taking care of her all day. I was sitting with her in the dark when your car pulled up, and she was so happy, excited to see you. But it took a while for you to enter the bedroom. Once you finally did, you got upset with Mom. And by this point, I was boiling. I pushed you out of the room and against the wall. I wanted to break you.

I don't think we talked about it since. Maybe I apologized. I don't remember.

I've told so many therapists about these incidents that they barely hurt to write. Why couldn't you have gone to therapy? Please? Why couldn't you have tried more medications?

I was desperate for your affection. And even though I hate myself for it, I still often am.

You thought being on antidepressants would make you less hireable. I'm sorry. I'm sorry the world made you think this.

As a child, I did everything I could to make you happy: to make you show your love to me. I was a child. But because of you I had to be Mom's confidant and support, I had to be my sisters' father and protector.

But I know you didn't know how to be better. Mom tells me you're still stuck as that neglected child. I see it. I'm so sorry, Dad. I hope you're happy by the time you die.

I love you. I hope I will learn to love you better,

Your daughter

12-10-22