A letter I can ‘t send

*My father passed away on Oct 8th 2018, at the time of this writing it was nearly 3 weeks ago. I have been having some complications with grief because the relationship I had with him was complicated. This is a part of my grieving process, I am writing him a letter I can’t send, telling him things that I need to say.*

 

Dad,

So you left us almost 3 weeks ago. It’s been an interesting time to say the least. My emotions have been life a raft on an ocean in a storm. The rise and fall has nearly made me nauseous. I miss you and I love you but lets be honest, our relationship as father and son wasn’t always the most healthy.

 

There were times that you would get so angry at me that I swear to God you were going to kill me. You’d kick me, you hit my face so hard, you would take your belt off, strike my body, my arms…….

I still remember that night when I was 10 and you climbed on top of me pinning me to the best and beating me senseless. I remember Mark running down the hall telling mom that you were killing me. I thought you were going to. I don’t ever remember being so scared.,

SO dad I am going to confess a few things to you. Things I am not happy about but are true none the less. I never ever told you these things and well I can’t exactly tell you them now but I need to get them out. Send them out to the ether where they can go and be as dead as you are.

Please remember that I do love you. but as an adult I had dreams where I would almost kill you. It was always physical fights, never guns or weapons just beating you like you beat me. I’d watch you crumple, pull your hair, slam you against walls.  I had no control over any of this, these dreams just happened. I regret them, I regretted them back then and I regret them still. After having one of these dreams I’d be miserable for days afterward. I do not know what part of me wanted you dead but there must have been a part there.

I remember after Mark died and we hadf that fight in the car coming home from Grandma’s house where you told me that my grief didn’t matter, that yours was worse and more important I know I wanted you dead then. I know that I felt that the wrong family member died. My God why couldn’t I have had my brother and you be gone. Well I guess I got my wish because now you are gone and I am destroyed.

I sill remember a few years ago the last physical fight we had. I was so scared you were going to hurt me again when you got out of your chair and you came after me but then something crazy happened. I shoved you against the closet door and you stopped. I was stronger than you and if I had wanted to I could have done some damage to yu that night. As it was I know your shoulder hurt you for days afterward and I remember that I apologized many times to you about the whole thing. It was never in my nature to actually want to do harm. but you scared me so damn much, why am I still scared when I know exactly where you remains are? Isn’t that weird?

Our relationship was not perfect, we got on each others nerves. We both had our issues, some of which I think I actually inherited from you like anxiety and my temper, but I do know that we had love. I do understand that you were crazy proud of me and Corrie for doing the best we can all of the time. I will remember you fondly even though things were complicated. I don’t hold any regrets anymore and I know you did not have any either.

I have written this all down so I can put it to rest. so that if this comes up again that I can remind myself that I have dealt with this already, yes these things happened but no, these memories and reams do not have any power over me anymore. You and I were good when you left Dad. You were in a good place 20 min before you died suddenly, I know that because the last text you sent to anyone was sent to me.

I love you and miss you so much Dad. Please save me a place at the table when I get up there.

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