Dear Dad,
You died yesterday. I have a massive void in my heart. I look back on all the years, and the times you tried, in vain, to reach out to me, and I cry. I should have treated you better. You didn’t deserve my harsh judgment, resentment, and treatment. You and I never had a close relationship, after I got older and came to the conclusion that you were no good. I didn’t stop to ask why or wanted to reason with it. You were half responsible for me being in the world, and thus, responsible for raising me. I hated you. I hated you so much. I wanted you to feel the weight of the pain I had felt from your absence in my life. I’m sorry. I didn’t know that you had your own demons to contend with and that your pain was equal, or possibly greater, than my own. I didn’t care. My pain was the focus of our relationship. Nothing else mattered. Because of this, I single-handedly sequestered myself from that side of the family. They didn’t matter. I was stupid and blind.
I remember at last year’s family reunion, I left with one of my best friends after being there for a couple of hours. I couldn’t take the awkward setting and trying to connect with people I didn’t know that well. I wanted familiarity. I remembered you asking me to spend time with, but underneath the asking, it was actually a plea for me to be there. Had I known then that you wouldn’t be here today, I would’ve stayed. Had I known the pain that you were harboring was very real and very lonely, I would have been a lot less selfish. I should have loved a lot more when you were here and now I’m fighting a losing battle to self-resentment and guilt. Please forgive me, even though I don’t deserve it. I’ve prayed a million times today for God and your forgiveness.
Fast forward to Tuesday. It’s been a year since I last saw you. I should have seen you sooner. Two of my aunts came to my house, and gave me the news that you were in the hospital with cancer. I came to see you Wednesday morning. My aunt pulled me aside and told me some shocking news. You had lung cancer for a year, and you never told anyone. Also, you were dealing with mental illness. No one ever told me that. Before you went into the hospital, you lived alone, in a small house, and you were desperately lonely. I didn’t know the amount of pain and worthlessness you were feeling. I was too focused on me to actually see about you. I don’t think I can ever forgive myself for this. You thought yourself a burden on others, that you allowed yourself to endure tremendous physical and mental pain. Please know that you would never have been a burden. You were and still are amazing. Seeing you on that hospital bed tore me up beyond belief. I have never felt so much anguish, shame, and regret for myself such as that moment. On Thursday morning, I got the news that you had taken a turn for the worse, and you only had 1 hour left. We rushed to the hospital, but you beat the doctor’s timing, if only for a while. I sat with you until 6 pm, but I promised to be back at 10 pm. On the way home, I got a call saying that you had died. Thank you for holding on enough for me to spend time with you. You were gracious to me, in a way I had not been to you. I didn’t deserve it.
Thank you for loving me. Thank you for being your amazing self. Thank you for being patient. Thank you for putting up with my hateful self. I realize now that I didn’t deserve you.
Above all, I thank God for you, even though I didn’t deserve you. Thank God for allowing me to spend time with you. Thank God for His grace that I don’t deserve.
In closing, dear dad, please know that I love you so much. Please forgive me for not loving you sooner. You deserved better. I love you with an eternal love.
With love,
Your daughter
