Tags: Daughter, father, Father's Day, Letter to Father

I wanted to take a moment to acknowledge all the writers who sent in Father’s Day letters for the Unsent Letters blog. I was surprised to see how few we received, especially in comparison to the Mother’s Day requests. I’ve known, for some reason, over the years, that Father’s Day doesn’t seem to be as big of a deal as Mother’s Day. The reason for that became abundantly clear to me as I sifted through the letter submissions this week.

Someone on the AWF forum said that they had stopped reading Unsent Letters because the subject matter was too heavy. It’s funny, because the really heavy, hard-hitting, gut wrenching letters are being saved for the book — along with some humorous and lighthearted and uplifting ones too — but generally speaking, we can share and say the ‘good’ things. It’s the hurtful, harmful, damaging, angry, ‘bad’ things that we leave unspoken, buried deep inside of us.

Then we come to the Father’s Day letters. The one theme I saw running through the majority of the Father’s Day Unsent Letters was that of an ‘absent’ or mostly ‘absent’ father — the deadbeat dads, the dads who kids never knew, children raised by grandparents, etc. So much of the negative aspect of fathers overshadowed the handful of positive Father’s Day letters I received.

I had to take a moment and think about that. You see, for so many years, I was a single mother. My daughter, who is now 21 years old, was raised without her father, only having met him one time briefly when she was 7, again when he popped into her life at 14, and then he disappeared, leaving behind nothing but broken promises.

Having seen what she went through with her issues with not having a father, I was determined to make sure my son had one. When my son’s father and I called things off between us, I would fight him to spend time with his son. I pushed and pushed, made excuses for him, took the blame when he didn’t show up, all so my son wouldn’t feel his daddy had let him down.

In the end, my son’s father left town and disappeared on my son’s fifth birthday, leaving a very sad and angry little boy all dressed up and waiting for daddy to come take him to see a movie and go play miniature golf. As bad as that was, a few years down the road, after I pushed to get him back in my son’s life, he molested my son and faced felony charges for his actions. He admitted and confessed to the crime, so there is no allegations. He is no longer allowed to see my son and they have no contact whatsoever. My son is a happy, healthy and amazing almost 15 year old ‘man’ now. Hey, he shaves… sometimes.

I tried to convince myself that it didn’t matter. I was a good mother — no, I am a great mother — and I love my children. In fact, most who know me in real life used to call me Super Mom. I never missed a play or music program or soccer game or school assembly or anything. I did everything I could to ensure my children had both a mother and a father in me. I wrestled on the floor with them. I learned how to kickbox (sorta), and I played video games, darn it all!

I was a good dad!

So I do want to take a moment today and say Happy Father’s Day to all the Mothers out there who are Fathers too. You deserve the extra recognition of filling in for two salaries, two parents, and still staying sane (mostly).

Next, I want to say a very Happy Father’s Day to all the ‘daddies’ out there. I’m not talking to biological fathers, though some of them are daddies. I’m talking about every man who has held the hand of a child while a needle was getting shoved in their vein at the hospital, or every man who doctored a scraped knee and kissed away tears. I’m talking to every man who has ever read a child a bedtime story and tucked them in at night with a kiss on the forehead and a, “See you in the morning, buddy.”

It doesn’t matter if the child was born of your blood as long as the child resides in your heart– that makes you a daddy.

I have a man now who loves my son. I watch my son look up to him, respect him, talk about him with a twinkle in his eye and a smile. I see my son do things on purpose because he knows it will make this man proud. He sets and example for my son to live up to, look up to, and it’s an example of a fine man.

Through this man, I’ve seen my son change and grow, come alive in ways I could never teach him, no matter how hard I try.

Then, even at 21 years of age, I watch my daughter blush and giggle from a compliment this man gives her.

So I have to admit today, on Father’s Day, that Michy has been wrong all these years… while children can flourish and grow with just one parent, because so many have done so and excelled, I am wrong to say that kids don’t need a daddy.

They do.

I’m not saying it has to be the man who donated his sperm to their creation. I’m not saying it has to be someone who is there every day of their lives, day in and day out.

But it needs to be someone they can count on, depend on, trust to be there when it matters most.

So if you are a man… if you have children… don’t JUST be a father. Be a daddy. Be a man. A Real Man.

Little girls need someone who the can sit in their laps and kiss on the cheek goodnight and be the little princess… or someone who they can go and be a tomboy with. Little boys need the example of a good man to grow up to be like and admire, someone they can hope to become, live up to.
Plus, ask any mom, especially single moms, and they’ll tell you there is nothing sexier than a man being tender to a child.

The world needs fathers for one reason only — to procreate. The world needs daddies though, to make this world a better place, to bring our next generation up differently and better than the one before it, to constantly improve and excel.

Who knew daddies did so much?

I knew. I knew it when I wrote my own Unsent Letter and put it up on the blog awhile back. You can read it here if you’re interested. I only wish my father would read it and he would understand this himself.

I have a decision to make today… I haven’t talked to my father in over a year. Last Father’s Day, I called and left him a message and he did not return my call. I don’t know what I’m going to do this Father’s Day. What do you think I should do? I just don’t know.

So while I’ve tried to convince myself that daddies aren’t necessary, both for myself and my children, here I am, nearly 40 years old, and I still wish I had a daddy.

Be a daddy…

Happy Father’s Day to all the ‘daddies’ in the world. The world is a better place because you are a daddy.

Love and ‘daddy’ stuff,
Michy

PS: To read all the Father’s Day Letters that made it to the blog, click on this link: http://ourunsentletters.com/blog/?cat=168

Then you can scroll through them, or you can click on the Father’s Day category on the right-hand side of the blog—–>

Dear Dad,

There are things I wish to say, but I know you are a proud man who wishes to remain quiet about such health issues. Did you know how often I pray for your health? I never say it, because I know you and I see differently on religious views.

I was very afraid for you in April and May. It was very hard to see you lying in the hospital bed in those crisp white sheets. I never realized how sick you were until I saw you. Although, some days you still had the strength to flirt with your nurses. I guess it is true that you cannot keep a good man down.

Over the course of my life, you may not have always been there when I wanted you to be. However, you were always there when I truly needed you to be. I would like to think that now it is my turn to be here for you. You may not like to hear what I say, but you need to hear it just the same.

You and I both know where my medical training lays so I am sure you realize that I along with Diane and Lori realize more than the others do. All seven of us want you around for years to come.

I know you feel you have a curse because men in your family die at 65. You are now 64 and I bet that scares you to pieces, especially since your health is spiraling downward in the past few years. With me being of an alternation religion, I am supposed to believe in curses, not you. I do not feel it is a curse.

Yes, I understand the health issues more than you think I do. Remember when my son Timmy was so ill? I did my research so that I could help him be all he can be. Had I just left that in the hands of others… well, it might not have turned out the way it did. Doing my research, I learned that I was not alone and neither was he. I could not simply allow him to be as he was and I will not allow you to be as you are.

I know that when a devastating illness comes along, you get angry with God and everyone else. I do understand anger with God, as I have been there myself. I do understand anger with other people, as I have also been there myself. While I do understand that aspect, I want you to know it is perfectly normal. It is okay to be angry with others because they are living and doing what they desire, while you struggle with those things. You struggle with life, much as Timmy did so long ago.

You cannot walk more then 20 steps without being winded, and I realize that is awful. Therefore, jump back on that four-wheeler and be mobile once again when you feel like that. Get out and see that world. Go shopping in Wal-Mart in one of those motorized wheelchairs. Heck, I will even race you down the aisles. If we are tossed out on our ears, at least I would have seen you smile once more.

These type of chairs mean independence to those folks who need them. This way, if you choose to take one in Wal-Mart, you can go where you want. You will not have to skip the back sections of the store because it is hard to walk back there. I know the automotive section in the back corner is huge, and you would enjoy it.

Seriously, those motorized wheelchairs are there for those people who need them. There is no shame in them. I have ridden in some of them when I was working in the nursing homes, and they are easy to learn. I was not playing, I was moving the chairs to the outlets, and it is easier to ride in them than push them.

In the nursing home, I also saw people simply give up when the chips were stacked against them. They quit eating, drinking, and getting out of bed. I saw the lights go out of their eyes. They had given up and were waiting to die.

You will not do this.

I’ve seen the light in your eyes flickering, and I will not allow you to give up on your self. It is not your time Dad.

There is no curse! Today, with medical technology, you can live another twenty years or more. Getting an oxygen tank is not a weakness. It simply means you are getting precious air. Truthfully, the air on that tank is cleaner than the air the rest of your family is breathing. Canned air is like standing up top a mountain and breathing that crisp fresh air.

You take your medication, and I am so glad. You need to get in a wheelchair at Wal-Mart or the mall and see the world. You need to get on that four-wheeler and ride. Ride for your life, Dad, because there is still plenty of life out there for you.

Life is not ready to give up on you and neither are we. You have a huge family to take care of and we need you as much as you need us. We are here to give back the help, love, and understanding that you have given us over the years.

I love you dad,
Amy Jo

~~~

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Amy Browne discovered her passion for writing as a teenager. The many twists and turns in her life have added more water to her writing wellspring. The same traits that make her a successful single mom- dedication, commitment, and organization shine through in her writing.

Mrs. Browne writes for various online and print publications. She has written over 1000 articles for Associated Content where she is a proud recipient of the top 100 content producers of 2008. Very much a family person, she enjoys writing fiction that speaks to your heart and soul.

You weren’t my father, at least not in the biological sense of the word. You took on the role and carried it out with finesse and pride. We do share the same DNA with a slight generational gap. You are my grandfather, but in my mind and in my heart you were so much more than that.

You were the one who went to work every day to make sure I had food in my belly and clothes on my back. You were the one who took pride when I got good grades or showed disappointment when I had done badly. You were the one that stood by me through thick and thin. You were the one that was there when I needed you both financially and emotionally. You took on the role as my father with pride, but you were even so much more than that.

You were my daddy in my heart and in my soul. You were the one that galloped around the hall with me on your shoulders singing Hi Ho Silver Away as grandma prayed we would remember to duck in the doorways. You were the one who took me to skating lessons. You were the one that took me to school functions. You were the one who made sure we never missed a county fair or steam engine show. You were the one who shared your buckwheat pancakes with me as a small girl.

You have been gone for four years now and I don’t think you will ever know how much I loved you then and love you still. I miss you every day, but on Father’s Day I miss you even more. I miss the sound of your voice and the joy in your laugh. I miss the way you played with my kids, your great grandchildren, like you did with me when I was a little girl.  I miss the smell of your hair when you hugged me. I miss the warmth of your lips when you kissed my cheek.

I selfishly wish you could be here to celebrate Father’s Day with us, to celebrate the role you took in my life. But I can only hope that you can feel the love and the strength you left me with.

Missing you,
Your Daughter

~~~

Ryanick Paige is a freelance writer and bargain shopper extraordinaire. Some of her work can be read at Associated Content.

Tags: father, Father's Day, grandfather, great grandfather, Letter to Father

Dear Dad,

I am writing this letter to thank you for all that you did for me. Now I know you may be a little confused about why I would want to thank you, considering what little time we spent together.

Well, that is exactly what I want to thank you for. As a deadbeat dad who would randomly pop into my life, you truly taught me to expect the unexpected.

Although, it happened so infrequently, I actually thought it was neat to have you show up and shower me with a huge amount of gifts-most of them extravagant to make up for all the birthdays, Christmases and report cards that came in between these visits. Kids are so easily impressed!

I will never forget the visit that brought me the Atari, the bicycle and the huge amount of clothes! Of course, after that I don’t think I saw you again for three years… but still it was cool.

I never stopped hoping that you would show up to visit me even if you didn’t bring gifts. After awhile I figured out that if I heard from you, it meant that you had a new girlfriend, one who liked kids. Somehow, she found out you had a child and she wanted to connect. I bet she thought if she could meet me, we could work together to make you a better more stable person.

I want to thank you for teaching me empathy for these poor women, who tried so hard to be a part of your life and to make you be a part of mine.

Unfortunately, it never worked out; you always broke up with them. At first, I was pretty disappointed to lose these women from my life, but I must admit it made me resilient.

I also wanted to thank you for giving me hope. I frequently went to bed dreaming about the Disney vacation you promised me, or how we would spend a whole week together. Really, I think I learned to handle disappointment quite well thanks to you.

It is important that you understand how much you made me appreciate my step dad. He has always been there, even when I didn’t want him to be there. In fact, he has really grown into the role of dad and is now a proud grandpa.

From you I gained a deep appreciation for all the dads that remain an important part of the children’s lives even if their relationship with the mother fails. It is so easy to disappear from a child’s life as you did; I applaud all the men who do not take the easy way out.

Speaking of dads… I found a wonderful man. I think you may remember him; you met him briefly at our wedding 13 years ago. I agonized for weeks about inviting you to my wedding. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I kept worrying ‘would you come, would you behave, how would you treat my mom and me‘. All that worry for nothing. As I remember it, you stopped by for about two minutes and then disappeared.

So much for a joyful reunion. I am sorry I wasted so much time worrying about it.

Anyway, my husband and I have three wonderful children, two of which are twins! Can you believe it? Too bad, you never got to see them. They are just beautiful.

My husband is a terrific father.  I admit, sometimes I get jealous of the loving, close relationship that my children have and are going to have with their dad.

Yet, I have no regrets about not having you in my life. According, to my mom and my grandmother, you drank and had a horrible temper. You belittled my mom and did some terrible things (you know what they are).

Anyway, I think things would have turned out differently and quite badly if you had been in my life.

Between my mom, my step dad and my grandparents I had people who loved me all the time, not when it is convenient for them.

I know you may find it hard to believe but without you, I have had a pretty great life. I am not sorry you weren’t part of it.

Again, I thank you,

Your Daughter

~~~

Jennifer is a freelance writer; she lives in Wisconsin with her husband, twin daughters, and son.

Tags: biological father, Father's Day, father's day letter, letter to biological father, letter to dad, Letter to Father, Unsent Letters

On Father’s Day, it’s important to note that there are many different types of fathers… this letter definitely conveys that, in multiple ways.

~~~~

Dear Father,

I took a vacation from the church. The vacation lasted for years. I could sleep in and I never worried about Sunday Mass. That changed three years ago. I joined your church and began to be active in the community. I will admit, I went kicking and screaming, but my wonderful husband gently persisted and led by an example that I never realized was there.

You see, my boys, they need to grow up knowing God. They need to understand that there is something bigger and better than them in this world. They need to understand so much and even though I believe, I do not have the experience, knowledge, or openness to share my faith as completely as you do.

You have helped me in that sharing. I have always considered my faith private and rarely discussed it with anyone. I now answer endless streams of questions and listen to the stories of the Saints that my Kindergartener has eagerly learned.

You were a brand new pastor when we joined your church. I had some doubts about the direction that this parish was headed. This church had gravitated away from the traditional music and solemnity. My husband was worried about the children that were processing in waving ribbons. You see, we came from a church that had girls dancing down the aisle waving scarves on Easter Sunday one year. That was the last mass we ever attended there.

I kept faith and you reaffirmed it with the way that you tie your actions in with your homilies and your everyday communications. You said that the community is strong because of the children and when it is time to celebrate then we should and need to celebrate.

We made a decision to send our children to your Catholic school. Both my husband and I attended Catholic schools and felt that we received excellent educations. We were looking for “a complete Catholic education.” We have found it. Unfortunately, it took a tragedy to completely convince us.

We received a recorded phone call from you at 10:30 one night. As soon as you said “Dear families,” I knew something was wrong. I listened for the next minute and a half as you explained that my six-year-old’s teacher had died. Your words were eloquent and spoken with a heavy, faithful, heart.

I was awake for the next four hours pondering how I was going to tell my son the news. I wish I had recorded your beautiful words.

I awoke early the next morning in order to gather myself before waking my son. I used your words to break the news to him. He cried, hard. He said that he would be sad forever.

I attended the all school prayer service that morning. I needed to go for him, to make sure he was okay. Like any six-year-old, he was fine. Your words were beautiful and a comfort to the entire school.

The other parents were just as moved as I was. You were able to convey that death is never the end. You also gave everyone comfort with your stories of the love and compassion of this wonderful woman. She did love the children. It was so transparently obvious in all she did.

When my son got home that afternoon, he excitedly told us how you were seated in his classroom when the children entered that morning. He was laughing because you were acting like a student by raising your hand and asking questions of the principal. You conveyed your message by being one of them.

Over the next week we heard stories about you. You were there for the kids to lead them spiritually. You reaffirmed what we believe and are trying to teach our children about life, death, and God.

The all school memorial mass was again beautiful and, well, uplifting. We were all in tears and happy and sad at the same time. Thank you for asking for our participation. It was important to us to be able to sit with our son and the other students.

You told the family that the book that the children had put together was not complete. You said that it will never be complete because of the life that she led and students and people that she touched. You said that her life is not over; it had just begun. I cannot convey how much the students, parents, and family needed to hear your conviction. It is a fact and you made sure that everyone there believed it.

It was a blessing to see his teacher’s family there. Her mother and sister visited the classroom afterwards and shared stories about her to her children.

My son will always be connected to his Kindergarten teacher and may always be sad that he lost her but you have led him spiritually to the understanding of God’s greater plan and of heaven.

I don’t know how this would have been handled in a public school. I do know that the only way that we were able to get through this was through spirituality and faith.

I now know that God puts people where they need to be, when they need to be in places for a reason.

Thank you for keeping the communication open.

Thank you for being able to discuss the sadness in such a positive and loving way.

Thank you for putting life, death, and God all into a religious perspective.

Thank you for being there for the children.

Just Thank You.

Tags: father, father of all, father of the church, Father's Day

Dad,
I wasn’t going to write this to you but I decided to anyway. You are my dad, and even though you really make me mad at times, I still love you.

I know why you get so mean a lot of the time. I understand; I really do. I know you have a mental problem and as much as you admit it, you won’t get help. You think that you have been able to take care of it yourself but you really haven’t. Maybe, just maybe, if you woke up one day soon, you would realize that. You need help dad, and I wish I could help you.

I can’t help you though. The only person that can help you is yourself. That being said, I understand why you are the way you are. I know how you feel because I feel the same way when I don’t have my medicine. The difference between you and me is that I decided I wasn’t going to suffer for the rest of my life. I went and got the help I needed. I know you hate the medicine but when you need it, you need it. It is the way life is. If someone has a mental problem like we do, then the best thing to do for ourselves and everyone around us is to get the help we need.

But you refuse to and I will never understand why you refuse to make life easier for yourself and those who love you. We do love you, dad, but you are a hard person to live with and be around. I still love you and I always will no matter what.

I still don’t like the way you treat mom and me, but what am I supposed to do? I could fight with you, but what would that solve? Nothing. It would make things worse. We have fought in the past and I have always felt bad for doing so. I can’t take that back. All I can do is try to understand you and love you just the way you are. After all, everyone needs love and you are a human being just like the rest of us.

Aunt Mary runs her mouth about you. You don’t know she does it, and you never will. You think she likes you, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t like any of us. She just pretends to like us to our face and then she talks about us behind our backs. You wonder why I don’t like her and why I don’t visit her unless she is at your house when I am there. That is why.

I don’t like people who talk shit behind people’s backs and then act like their best friend to their face. It makes me sick. I think if someone has something to say about someone else, they should say it to that person. Not her though. She would rather kiss someone’s ass to their face and then talk shit behind their back. That makes me mad and sick and I can’t stand her for it.

I know first hand that she does it because when mom had to get that operation done on her arm, Aunt Mary was running her mouth about you as soon as you left the waiting room. She didn’t care that I was still sitting there. So guess what I did, dad? I went off on her. I asked her what her problem was and told her it was none of her business what you did. All because you went down to the Human Resources and asked them if they were hiring.

Did she not realize you had been out of work for a while and was doing everything you could to get a job? No, she didn’t care. She thought you should sit around like she was and wait until mom was out of her surgery. It wasn’t like it was a life and death situation.

I told her to keep her mouth off of you. She said she could say what she wanted because it was her sister in there getting an operation done. So what? Mom was okay. I told her that you were my dad and she needed to keep her damn mouth off of you.

You know what she did after that, dad? As soon as you got back from downstairs and she was going down to get something to eat, she asked you very sweetly if you wanted something from the cafeteria! How is that for backstabbing? She gave me a dirty look when you weren’t looking and didn’t ask me if I wanted anything. I don’t care. I didn’t and still don’t want anything from her or anyone else in mom’s family. They are all backstabbers and I know they are only nice to me to my face. I don’t care though. They wonder why I don’t want to be around them. I don’t care for any of them.

So dad, I do love you even though sometimes it is hard for us to get along. I will always stick up for you when someone talks shit on you. If they don’t like it, they can kiss my ass for all I care!

I remember when I used to sit on your lap, Daddy and hug you really hard. Now, as I am older, I see other fathers and daughters, how close they are, and wish we could have been closer. We were close when I was little but as I grew up you seemed only to care about my cousin, because he is a boy and you had more in common.

Why couldn’t we have been close? I get so sad when I see dads and their little girls and how close they are because I realize that we could have been closer but it never happened. I wish it would have though. I still love you and will always wish that we could have been closer. But it wasn’t meant to be I guess.

Happy Father’s Day and remember I will always love you no matter what.

~~~

Clarissa Wilson is a freelance writer who loves to read, write and spend time with her many pets. She enjoys writing non-fiction articles, short fiction stories, letters and poetry. She doesn’t have a website yet but you can view some of her work at http://www.associatedcontent.com/user/48715/sharon_morris.html and http://ramblingthoughts.today.com

Tags: Father's Day, Letter to Father

Dear Dad.

Sometimes if feels like one hundred years since you died; other times, it’s like it was yesterday. As I grow older–and I hope wiser–it dawns on me anew what a terrible shame it was for you to pass when you did at a fairly young age. You worked hard your whole life to get a nice place for you and mama. Then shortly after doing that, you got sick.

As I watch my kids grow, I regret our relationship wasn’t as close as it could have been. No, we were not the type to speak of feelings to each other, but we knew it was there.

I wish you could know how sorry I am that the one time I can remember you saying “I love you” to me as an adult, I pretended to not hear and ask you to repeat it. You just replied “Nothing” and I left the room very quickly. It was after you were sick, and it scared me to hear you say that. I knew then that you were not going to beat cancer and that you would die.

Even though I was an adult, it was hard to picture you as just another man. You were my dad and close to indestructible in my eyes. When it finally sunk in you were going to die, I didn’t know what to say or do.

When the nurses said you were in a coma, you kept trying to talk. At first we didn’t understand what you were saying over and over.  When it dawned on us you were trying to say mama’s name over and over again, it sent me to my knees at the wonder of that love.

I know what love like that is now. You would like Ann. She isn’t a frilly, girly type and even works on the car, as you know I am helpless in that department. At the same time, she is a lady. You would like her. I know mama sure does.

Adam is almost 13 now and entering the terrible teens, but he is a good kid most of the time. He wants to work on cars when he gets older. Wonder who he got that from? I think he remembers you a little, and he has your picture by his bed.

You would like Ann’s kids. They are a good bunch. Shawn is very smart and the hardest working teenager I ever knew. Chris has had his troubles but seems to be growing out of them. Bribe him with a fishing trip and he is a friend for life. Monica is adorable and quick with an insult in a teasing way. You would love her often only answering to her nickname “George” and her affection for me.

I hope somehow you are able to see us and how we are doing and know that I miss you very much and always will.

Your son,
Randy

~~~

Randy Inman is a freelance writer living in the foothills of North Carolina. He enjoys watching sports, fishing and spending time with his fiancee and kids. You can read his writing here and here, so stop by and leave him a comment or two. If you’re into sports, Randy’s column here is a must read.

Tags: Father's Day, Letter to Father

Dear wife,

I suppose I’m supposed to say that it’s your fault I am sleeping with your husband, because you didn’t take care of his needs or you didn’t do what a good wife should do, or some other nonsense. We both know that’s not really true. Infidelity isn’t the fault of the faithful spouse most of the time, and the truth is, your husband is just not a faithful man.

I’m not in love with him. Not sure I ever was or will be in love with him, but you see, for me, he is safe. Safe because he has you. And you, you’re safe because he has me. I know him and his past, a past he’s tried to hide from you (though I think you know more than you let on) and if it weren’t for me, he’d be out there sleeping with lots of different women. At least I’m clean. You won’t catch anything from him through me. After all, while he is a cheat, you and I both are faithful women.

That part is just justification though.

I know that sleeping with your husband is wrong. I do know that, somewhere deep inside of me, and in that same deep place inside, I feel guilty about it.

I can give you reasons, but they truly are nothing more than excuses. I try to tell myself that you really do know about me, and that you just choose not to say anything, so that I can sort of convince myself that it’s okay, since you silently endorse our relationship.

Truth is, I don’t know if you know about me or not.

What makes it hard for me is… I like you. I really like you. You’re a kind woman, with an honest heart, and I know you love your husband. You have a strong Catholic Christian faith, and you believe it is your duty to love him, no matter what, until death do you part.

Honey, even the Christian Catholic church allows annulment in the case of infidelity.

But that wouldn’t be honoring your husband, would it? You take your vows seriously.

I don’t know if that makes you devout or a fool. Sometimes I want to believe it’s the fool, just because that absolves me of some guilt.

What? You didn’t think I felt guilty? I do sometimes. Then there are other times I justify it by saying that you have a better marriage with him because of me. He loves you, you know. He really does. He reveres you in his own way and he admires you. I’m actually jealous of you sometimes.

Then I remember that I don’t really want him, and I can slip back into being the ‘other woman’ again.

I’m not saying it’s right. I’m not saying that any of the justifications make it right. Maybe if you’d lived my life you’d understand why this ‘safe’ relationship I have with him is necessary for me right now. I don’t expect you to understand. I’m not asking for forgiveness or absolution.

I can’t apologize to you for hurting you. I never did intend for any of this to hurt anyone. It’s selfish, I know, but maybe, just maybe, what you don’t know can’t hurt you.

But I do want to thank you, even though I know you’ll never read this letter. So let me say it now, for me… Thank you for sharing him with me. Thank you for loving him enough that he is safe for me to spend a few stolen nights together. Thank you for your strength and commitment to your marriage. Thank you.

Sincerely,
The ‘other’ Woman

Tags: affair, Cheating, infidelity, letter from the other woman, Letter to the Other Woman, Letter to Wife, marriage, spouse, the other woman