Yesterday, I left off my letter at:
Dear Dad,
My therapist wants me to write a letter to you, so here goes. I feel like I’m supposed to be angry with you for leaving me, but I’m not. I know it wasn’t your fault that you left, it simply was your time. Honestly, it’s been too long to harbor any feelings of anger. I think I’ll stop there for right now, since I’m at work and I’m starting to tear up. More later.
Well, I guess I have to keep writing, so here goes....
What I do feel is sadness. I'm sad that I never got to know the person who I hear so many great things about. I'm sad that I never got to know the father who adored me. I'm sad that you never got to share in the special moments of my life, like the first play I performed in, the visit day at sleep-away camp, the trips to New York City, and of course the bigger occasions like graduations and my wedding. My therapist asked if I felt like something was missing those days and frankly, I didn't, but perhaps that's because your life slipped away when I was two years old and I didn't have much time to get accustomed to you being present nor did I associate your presence being at special occasions. Ugh more tears. More tomorrow.
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