Dear Daddy

I'm mad at you. I know it is ridiculous for me to be angry with you, given your current situation and all, but I can't seem to control how I am feeling.

It's really not fair. How this all went down. You not being in my life, through circumstances that were not in your control. I finally met you when I was 17 but it was hard for both of us.

We had a rocky road, you and I. You were so generous to let me stay in your home when I found myself pregnant and alone. I really got to know you in those few months. I finally felt like I had a Daddy but I still didn't know how to be a daughter. It's not something that comes with genetic makeup, you know. I was nobody's daughter my whole childhood and then all of a sudden I have a father who wants his daughter and I don't know how to give him what he wants.

I was scared to be on my own but even more afraid of being a burden so with your loving guidance, I moved out on my own. Our relationship became very rocky as I struggled to regain my independence. You were looking for me to acknowledge all you had done for me, perhaps to fill that void in your heart left by all the years of guilt when you didn't know where I was. I just wanted to have some time to figure out how to be a parent and build a life for my son and I.

I moved over 1000 miles from you. We parted on shaky terms. You wanted me to stay near you and I was ready to move on to the next stage in my life. You once told me that you will never choose me over your wife (when she and I were fighting) and that stung hard. Especially because I never asked you to choose I just felt she was wrong and wanted you to know how I felt. I know it was hard for you, when we fought. You loved us both so much and felt caught in the middle. When it was really good between all of us it was wonderful but when it was really bad it was unbearable. That is why I moved. I wanted to be free from all the drama and even your neediness. I was tired of you needing me to be someone I wasn't.

I loved you. I loved you more than I knew I was capable of loving you. Distance proved to be what we needed. Our relationship blossumed over the phone. We did not get to see each other much but I knew there was plenty of time. Later.

The few visits we had were nice. We got along great and it seemed that you were falling into your role as my Dad and I really enjoyed my role as your daughter. I finally could hug you without being afraid. I could look you in the eye and know that it was safe to do so. We could talk for hours about nothing and it was nice.

When I lost my Grandpa in that horrible housefire, it was you who cried with me. It was you who comforted me and knew just what to say to my aching heart to somehow learn to function again.

I began to open up enough to rely on you to be there for me. I trusted you. I needed you.

You knew something was wrong and you even called me one day and said "I've been a bad Father..." You let me laugh that off and tell you if you were a bad father then I was a bad daughter. Then you let me babble away for over an hour without butting in to tell me you were dying. You could have told me. It would have sucked but at least I would have gotten a proper goodbye with you...

Instead you just went along with the words I was saying. God only knows what was going through your mind as I babbled on about the kids and my problems. Did you even try to come up with the words to tell me or did you just feel I was better off not knowing? I mean, you had to know I was going to find out one way or another. Maybe you really didn't know...I guess I will never know the answer.

I got on a plane to see you. Within hours I was watching you take your last breaths. Daddy, you have no idea how hard this was for me. I could barely stand there. I wanted you to know I was there with you, there for you. Because I loved you and you needed me there. Towards the end, when it was obvious it was only a matter of minutes, I wanted to run away so bad. I wanted to run as far away as I could and scream at the top of my lungs at God for putting me through this, for taking you from me without so much a goodbye. I wanted to know what was in your heart. I wanted to know you would find a way to let me know you were ok as you crossed from this earth to the path of your spiritual journey. I got NOTHING. So here I was, watching you drown inside yourself. Understanding that each of your organs was shutting down one by one and there was nothing, absolutely nothing I could do except listen to you breathe and pray that God take you without suffering.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Gurgle. Silence. Breathe in...

It was heartwrenching for me. I could no longer stand at your side. I could not leave you but I knew that once the silence stayed, and no more breaths came, I would have to run.

I stood there touching your big toe. Poised to run to the back room as soon as the silence set in. Something inside me was telling me to run as fast as I could. Any moment now. Another breath. More gurgling. The strength it took to stand there....came from deep within.


Silence.

Is it over? Oh my God. That's it.

RUN.

I ran.

Things happened after that. Terrible things. I know that God or an Angel was looking out for me. Something happened where after my Dad took his final breaths all the fluid that he had drowned in came out of his mouth. I heard the noise. I'll never forget that sound. It was almost as bad as the sound of silence when Dad stopped breathing. Almost.

I was in the back room. I was alone. No one remembered I was there. After what seemed like hours, the men came to take my Dad to the mortuary. The sound of them lugging his body into the bag. The sound of that horrible zipper. I heard it all. I want to forget but it haunts me.

Less than 3 years later I sit. Still angry. Still hearing these sounds as though they happened minutes ago.

I was somebody's daughter. You were my hero. I could act like a brat and get away with it because you were my Daddy and I was your princess. You took that away from me.

You promised me you would never leave and you left me.

It sucks. I'm hurting. I'm mad at you for breaking your promise.

I know, I know. You died. It's not like you could have helped it. But still, I have the right to be irrational and to pout. I have the right to yell at you when no one is looking. I have the right to jump up and down and stomp my feet and tell you it's not fair.

Because you missed my terrible twos. Now I'd like to think you are up there being forced to watch your daughter through her terrible thirties.

I just wish I could bury my head in your big barrelled chest and hear you tell me that everything is going to be ok.

I miss my Daddy today.