search
top

To My Dad for Father’s Day, by Clarissa Wilson

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. (more…)

Twitter del.icio.us Digg Facebook linked-in Yahoo Buzz StumbleUpon

Dear Dad, by Randy Inman

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. (more…)

Twitter del.icio.us Digg Facebook linked-in Yahoo Buzz StumbleUpon

Next Entries »

top