Single in Sin City

A good girls survival guide to dating in Las Vegas

A Letter to Their Father

Dear XXX,

It’s been a year that you have been gone and I still have a hard time believing it. You had such an intense spirit-a HUGE spirit-and the world seems less interesting without you. You were charismatic and the weight of your presence always caused other men to take notice of you. You had this ability to influence people and motivate them to follow you. You were a natural leader. I miss you. In your absence I have tried very hard to hold everything together. You see, you left me with a huge mess.

You left me with two sons who miss their father so much. I can’t fill the void. I will never be able to fill the void. I can’t begin to tell you how hard it is to be a parent who is powerless to fix her babies problems. You left me with your mother who I love but I can’t help either. I can only be there for her. I can only try; and GOD knows I am trying. You left me all alone to handle these issues and I am horribly inadequate. I spoke to my grief counselor this week. She suggested I write you this letter so I am trying. I really am trying to be the best person I can be.

I loved you. You were my first love, and my first everything. When I was 16, you were like my hero. You helped me escape a horrible situation and you made me feel safe. In my eyes there was nothing you couldn’t do. You stood up to my mother and taught me how to stand up for myself. You used to make life seem so easy; and after my childhood I never thought life could be safe or easy. You pasted me back together and took care of me. You begged me to marry you as soon as I turned 18. I never wanted to be married but you always got your way. So married we were.

I hated being married to you. The second we married you changed. You started staying out late and drinking more. You stopped being so nice to me. The drinking escalated and the affairs began. You broke my heart worse than anyone. You struck me more than once out of anger. You scared me. You knew what type of childhood I had and you still bullied me. You hovered over me screaming with your hands raised and you laughed at me when I flinched. You laughed at me when I cried. You yelled at me when I cried. So one day I stopped crying. Then you ridiculed me over not having any feelings. You called me the ice queen. You accused me of changing. I informed you that you were the one who changed me. I didn’t learn to cry again until you died. The tears flow freely again. Its like I never changed at all. I know you were sick sweetie. I just could no longer sit around and be sick with you. I never stopped caring about you, I only pretended so you could move on. Our time had passed and I cared enough to want you to find happiness again. I’m so sorry you never got to and I’m so sorry I never told you how much I really cared.

When you were sober, you were one of my best friends. I miss your advice. You were the most logical thinker I have ever met. You could look at a problem and analyze it in such a logical yet creative way. I was always the feeler. I was always the one who tried to teach you compassion but you were definitely the problem solver. My passion and tendency to be so blunt always got in the way. You pushed me to be a better person. It’s funny because you used to tell me the same thing. However, when I think about the first person who really believed that I was more than some stupid hoodrat from the east side, that person was you. You didn’t always push me nicely. Sometimes you made me cry; but you always challenged my thinking. I’m sorry that I stopped acting like I valued your opinion. The truth is, I just got so disgusted by your alcoholism that I couldn’t take you seriously anymore. You were the only person in my life that really had my back. I don’t know how else to explain it. One of the hardest things to adjust to besides the obvious is the fact I feel so alone. No one looked out for me the way you did. Even after the divorce, you helped me fix things and you listened to me. You talked to me and you let me know when I was being a spaz. No one ever understood me like you. I remember about 6 months before you died you told me that you were sorry for the damage you caused. You told me that I was the best woman you had ever known. You also told me that when I wasn’t pretending to be such a hard ass, I was the most tender and loving woman you knew. I used to tell you that you had no idea who I was but I was lying to you. You’ve always seen through my wall.

I tried so hard to not lean on you after the divorce because I didn’t want to mislead you. I pushed you away out of love and I hope you know that now that you’re in heaven. In the beginning of our separation you scared the life out of me but the last year you were alive was so peaceful.  I am so happy you found GOD and I am sorry you could not find peace on earth. I thought if I quit being such a co-dependent, you would finally stand on your own. I had no idea you would just fall apart. I thought you would get better as long as I no longer enabled you. I may not have been in love with you but I loved you and I wanted what was best for you. I was no longer best for you and you were no longer best for me. I could no longer let you hurt me even if it was because of your disease. I feel like the only selfish decision I ever made was the cause of your death. If I knew that you would be alive today, I would have chosen to die the slow death I was facing. I would have consigned myself to being unhappy if it ensured your life and my children’s happiness. My grief counselor told me that was ridiculous thinking. I get it-I really do-but sometimes I still feel guilt. However, I am not the reason you are gone. You are the reason you are gone.

I am still trying to forgive you. I pray to GOD often that he removes the anger from my heart. I don’t know why you did it. I can’t believe you would walk down that path again. Why couldn’t you stop being a bad boy? We were grown ups. Thug life days were supposed to be over. You were at bible study that night. Why? I can’t help but hate you a little bit every time I tell your youngest son that GOD can’t bring you back from heaven. He cries for you often. There is a father son picnic this weekend and he is so heartbroken because he has no one to go with. What am I to do? Your oldest son is a remarkable person. He tries so hard to be the man of the house. I am so proud of him. He has no one to talk to like he used to talk to you. Do you remember how he always told you guy stuff he wouldn’t tell me? Who can he talk to now? You let us all down. I am trying to forgive you. On the anniversary of your death, I will try a little harder.

Until we meet again,



June 15, 2013 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , | Leave a comment