Letters to My Father (5.17.14)


Dear Dad,

You will miss my high school graduation today.

I will sit in the rows of other excited seniors who are wondering what their futures will be like and I will wish that you were here.

I always wish you were here. I suppose that is not a secret. I sometimes can’t bear the rush of inevitable sadness that shows its face when I least expect it.

I’m only 18 but I feel so much older. I’ve changed in so many ways that I didn’t think I could. I don’t talk my head off, as you said I do. I don’t go out with my friends to the bookstore or to see a movie like I usually do.  

I am sitting here, wishing that this day would be over so I don’t have to feel sad about it anymore. I wonder if there are others that will be graduating today that are missing one of their parents. Sometimes it’s comforting to think that I am not alone in this loss.

 I need your advice. I need you to be here for Mom. I need you to tell my brother that when people told him “you’re the man of the house now” that he doesn’t need to take care of us like you did.

 Why did they say that to Caleb at your memorial service? Don’t they know how insensitive that type of comment is? I could see how scared Caleb was when they said that to him. 

 He doesn’t talk about you. I think he blames himself for getting to the house late that day.  Instead he drowns himself in his college classes.

Mom has lost 20 pounds since you died. I’m scared she isn’t eating.  I’ve taken up your role of making dinner, even though I don’t know how to cook as well as you did. I promised you that day at your memorial service when everyone left and I was alone staring at your picture that I was going to take care of her.

I know many people would probably disagree with what I’m about to say, but I remember standing there after your memorial service, when mom was out of the room thanking people for coming that I felt you around.

“I promise I’ll take care of her. You have my word,” I said.

I felt goose bumps on my arms.  I hoped it was you. You would’ve liked your memorial service, I think.   

So I guess wish me luck wherever you are. I’m praying I don’t trip and fall when I walk up the steps. You know how clumsy I am.


I miss you.

Written: 5.17.14

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