Dear Daddy...

“Dear Daddy,

“How dare you leave the way you did. I didn’t have a chance to tell you everything I felt toward you or how much I hated being your child or how much I wish I had more time with you. I didn’t want you to go, but I didn’t want you to be around either. You made this confused vortex inside of me and never gave me a reason as to why you lashed out at me whenever you had the chance. And then when I went away, you cried. What the hell? It wasn’t as if you wanted me there... or did you? But when I was there, you ran me off by the harsh words you spilled over me. How dare you call me your daughter and then make me feel as if I had done you wrong by being born. It wasn’t my fault; it wasn’t my idea to be here. I didn’t ask to be born, I didn’t wish for any of this. This was your idea. It was your fault. And for as long as I could remember, I paid for it. Mom left, that wasn’t my fault either. How dare you make me the woman I am today? To afraid to walk outside, to afraid to encounter people for fear they will talk to me the way you did. The words you used, the hateful words you used, the pain you inflicted could have killed me a dozen times but I stayed in hopes that one day you would forgive me. And then I sat by your bedside, your death bed for four days and watched as you struggled for breath and all I could think was, "please don’t let him be in pain" and for what? You left, you mother fucker... YOU DIED!!! You left me to sit and wonder why the hell I should give a shit that you died. I am so mad at you for dying before you could make it right. You don’t live there anymore, I won’t see your face again, although I have to say, I really loved your smile.”

***

“The words from the soft voice of the singer waft over me, leaving behind fragments of memories. The shield of sadness, the veil of depression, the cause and effect of my need to say goodbye to him never sway. He gave me breath; life, need, want, and he left in me anger, despair, suicide, death. What did he expect? He was lost in his own maze and all he could see of me was a shadow that he could not recognize chasing him through his life. He was dying since birth, and in the latter part of his existence he drank his death with ever laden arms, needing that sweet carbonated eraser everyday to remind him that all was fine and when the end came, all he could do... was exhale with gurgled pauses...

“He is gone now, passed the point of funeral preparations and burial. He left behind a legacy of fogged moments of happiness in his desire to be well without her. But she had taken the best part of him and she never gave it back. She saw him several times a year and the only photo in his wallet was the paused moment of smiles with his wife and three of his daughters, grinning into the camera, ripped out of the daily life of questions and never knowing fear, and replaced briefly by the nice outfits and the camera shutter... CLICK... a happy family. I don't remember that day, but he did, and he carried that day with him from the day he got the picture until my sister took it out of his wallet... out of his hand... out of his life. We weren't there when he died... a family friend... the brave soul... the brave face sat with him to the end until she was awakened to hear the dreaded words, ‘his breathing has slowed, it's almost time.’ Her only thought, ‘Call Joni, Call Tonya... they need to know.’ But he left before they could get there, they simply could not see him die, that would kill them, he wouldn't allow it. So after twelve days of no food, of upping morphine, of saline drips, and humiliating wiping and turning, he let go of his mortal coil, and for the first time in his existence he was free. And drenched with confusion, I cried with the news... the words that chased the need for him, ripped through me like a machete, I cried.

“Goodbye daddy, I'm ok now, I'm free from you and the things you said. I release you from the rope you tied to me that anchored me to your destiny. You can go now... please go now... I can't take mourning you anymore. Please...go.”