I miss you sometimes. Every once in a while I get an urge to call you.
Sometimes the little girl in me surfaces and I wish I could talk to
you. But those moments pass, and they're fewer and far between now. So
go on and live your life, alone in that big house with nothing to do
and no daughter to talk to. I hope you're sitting around, waiting for
me to call like I think you are. I hope you're expecting me to give in
like I always do. But that call will never come, because I've finally
come to a realization: I'm stronger without you. Bet you never thought
you'd hear that, huh?
Sincerely,
Your Not-So-Loving Daughter
Showing posts with label parent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parent. Show all posts
Monday, November 26, 2007
Sunday, October 28, 2007
hey mother
your birthday's coming up. i always think about what i can do to show you how much i love you, and not just get you a shirt or a new kitchen item. i'll probably get a tattoo on my arm for you. something that will be with me at all times to remind me of you. i don't really need it though, i'm reminded every day. when i show love and compassion towards others it reminds me of you. when people tell me that i have a great smile, it reminds me of yours. when i'm dropping gratuitous f-bombs, i can hear you saying my name in that voice that means you're shocked and disappointed that such a thing would come out of my mouth...even though it comes out every 6 words or so.
i'm so proud of you as a woman and as a parent. i see what you do to other people when you're around them. people love you, and why not? you are funny, and more importantly you laugh a lot. you are beautiful, kind hearted, and aware. you continue to grow even in your 50's, and continue to amaze me with your ability to do so. you're not set in your ways, and you still think of other possibilities out there.
you love dad. you guys are still together. there's no doubt in my mind that it took so much patience and strength for you two to get through it all. i'm very grateful that you did. i'm special in that my parents have been together for 35 years and will likely remain together forever. forever isn't a term proved to be anything but a fantasy these days. you prove that it's still alive.
i'm so excited to see you for christmas, and i'm sorry that i only get to see you two or three times a year. i had to move and try something new, but i promise that i'll be back. i don't want to miss many more years with you being a constant presence in my life. maybe i'll let you open up that restaurant for me, and i'll be there to not only be your chef, but to be your active son again.
i love you and miss you so much. i'm lucky that i was picked to be your son.
i'm so proud of you as a woman and as a parent. i see what you do to other people when you're around them. people love you, and why not? you are funny, and more importantly you laugh a lot. you are beautiful, kind hearted, and aware. you continue to grow even in your 50's, and continue to amaze me with your ability to do so. you're not set in your ways, and you still think of other possibilities out there.
you love dad. you guys are still together. there's no doubt in my mind that it took so much patience and strength for you two to get through it all. i'm very grateful that you did. i'm special in that my parents have been together for 35 years and will likely remain together forever. forever isn't a term proved to be anything but a fantasy these days. you prove that it's still alive.
i'm so excited to see you for christmas, and i'm sorry that i only get to see you two or three times a year. i had to move and try something new, but i promise that i'll be back. i don't want to miss many more years with you being a constant presence in my life. maybe i'll let you open up that restaurant for me, and i'll be there to not only be your chef, but to be your active son again.
i love you and miss you so much. i'm lucky that i was picked to be your son.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Dear Dad
It's been ten years and seven months since you died, and I don't think the pain has lessened any. I'm 20 now, Dad, and I still feel like the lost little girl who found out her Daddy was never coming back. I fell apart when you died, and it seems like I'll never be whole again. I am still so angry with you for letting drugs become more important than your daughter. I'm angry with Mom, too--the drugs and alcohol have destroyed that relationship--but you're the one who's gone. At least Mom stuck around. It kills me to think that drugs are the reason I'm completely alone and lost right now. I feel like I'm drowning, and I don't have anyone to fall back on. Do you know how hard it was for me when Mom was relapsing every weekend? Do you know how scary it was to find her passed out on the bathroom floor and feel responsible for her? Of course you don't--you weren't there. You chose Fentanyl over me. Thanks to you, I didn't get to have a childhood, and now I'm a broken adult.
Your birthday was a few weeks ago, exactly one week before mine. You would have been 50. That day, along with the anniversary of your death, are the two hardest days for me to get through every year. I miss you so much, but at the same time, I find myself gradually forgetting what your voice sounded like and what you looked like. All I have left are pictures, birthday cards, and your Air Force jacket. It's so hard knowing that I'm forgetting my dad. I leave campus on Parents' Weekend every year because it's too painful to see the other girls with their dads and knowing that I'll never have that again. The other day, I had a happy moment when I was proud of myself, and the first thought I had was to pull out my cell phone and call you. It seems so stupid now, but that split second when I felt the urge to call you was so real, and I cried because it hit me for the millionth time that I'll never talk to my dad again.
It seems ridiculous to me that I still cry over you after ten years. Shouldn't this be getting easier? I hope, wherever you are, that you've found the peace you were obviously lacking. It's hard growing up and realizing just how unhappy you were when you were alive, and it's hard coming to the realization that parents aren't perfect. I remember when I used to idolize you. I miss those days. I miss you. I love you.
Your birthday was a few weeks ago, exactly one week before mine. You would have been 50. That day, along with the anniversary of your death, are the two hardest days for me to get through every year. I miss you so much, but at the same time, I find myself gradually forgetting what your voice sounded like and what you looked like. All I have left are pictures, birthday cards, and your Air Force jacket. It's so hard knowing that I'm forgetting my dad. I leave campus on Parents' Weekend every year because it's too painful to see the other girls with their dads and knowing that I'll never have that again. The other day, I had a happy moment when I was proud of myself, and the first thought I had was to pull out my cell phone and call you. It seems so stupid now, but that split second when I felt the urge to call you was so real, and I cried because it hit me for the millionth time that I'll never talk to my dad again.
It seems ridiculous to me that I still cry over you after ten years. Shouldn't this be getting easier? I hope, wherever you are, that you've found the peace you were obviously lacking. It's hard growing up and realizing just how unhappy you were when you were alive, and it's hard coming to the realization that parents aren't perfect. I remember when I used to idolize you. I miss those days. I miss you. I love you.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Dear Mom
I've just realized how much you love your work, and everything you've given up for it. Now i understand it all.
You love those children and you just want to help them, make them better persons, and i must admit you do a wonderful work.
I've seen the people you've helped, and they are very grateful and they admire you as much as anyone can admire another. You've changed their lives, you've guided them to the right path. You don't only teach them the necessary, you make make them feel loved and cared. Even in the hard times, when they just want to quit, you're there helping them and lending your shoulder to cry, even if they don't acknowledge what you've given them you're there, you're always there for them. And finally after 7 years I understand it, i understand you're living your dream, i understand that if there is someone in need you'll help them even if it is 2 in the morning because that's who you are. I get all that, I really do.
But that doesn't make it better. It just makes me feel like I'm not as important for you as your work, or any of those children. I've wished that for the past 7 years you would've helped me more, guided me through the right path, be the shoulder i could cry on when everything was going wrong. I've wished i could trust you more, i could admire you as much as those people do. I wish you could love me as much as your work. I wish you took some time off and stop worrying for at least one day. I wish you were more like dad. He knows me, he understands me, he always knows what want I to hear, he makes me laugh, he makes me feel loved. Now I've stopped wishing.
I see you and i feel you're so far away. The first step is difficult, i know it, but someone has to take it. So take this as the first step. Because even though you don't know me, i sure know who you are: you're my mom and i love you.
You love those children and you just want to help them, make them better persons, and i must admit you do a wonderful work.
I've seen the people you've helped, and they are very grateful and they admire you as much as anyone can admire another. You've changed their lives, you've guided them to the right path. You don't only teach them the necessary, you make make them feel loved and cared. Even in the hard times, when they just want to quit, you're there helping them and lending your shoulder to cry, even if they don't acknowledge what you've given them you're there, you're always there for them. And finally after 7 years I understand it, i understand you're living your dream, i understand that if there is someone in need you'll help them even if it is 2 in the morning because that's who you are. I get all that, I really do.
But that doesn't make it better. It just makes me feel like I'm not as important for you as your work, or any of those children. I've wished that for the past 7 years you would've helped me more, guided me through the right path, be the shoulder i could cry on when everything was going wrong. I've wished i could trust you more, i could admire you as much as those people do. I wish you could love me as much as your work. I wish you took some time off and stop worrying for at least one day. I wish you were more like dad. He knows me, he understands me, he always knows what want I to hear, he makes me laugh, he makes me feel loved. Now I've stopped wishing.
I see you and i feel you're so far away. The first step is difficult, i know it, but someone has to take it. So take this as the first step. Because even though you don't know me, i sure know who you are: you're my mom and i love you.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Dear Dad
I'm sorry I could never call you that, although you were the closest I ever had. Even at 12, I knew he wouldn't be a dad ever again, but I still couldn't. I am so glad that I hugged you and told you I loved you that day that we ate breakfast together. Whenever I think of you, I picture you sitting there, talking animatedly and smiling. We were all so happy. You were excited for us.
Now you are gone. And so are we. Would you be proud? Or feel let down? I want to cry so much about all the things you are missing. I see things daily that make me think of you. I see so many beautiful things that you would love and will never get to experience. So many beautiful places you never got to see. I see the changes in the world that you were always hoping for: a growing awareness of the impact we have on the environment, a greater drive for acceptance of others. I can only cry when I think about how excited you would be about the specter of change.
Would you be proud of us? Would you feel we were pursuing a dream or abandoning our family? Based on our last conversation, I think you would say were are pursuing a dream. I think that you recognized that life is short and you need to take risks sometimes to get what you want. Ironic, since you only had a week left to live.
I still have your baseball mitt. The summer before the accident, Mom brought some stuff over for a yard sale. The mitt was in there, and I kept it out. It's in box, waiting for the right person. Waiting for someone who will use it and will listen when we tell stories about you. Unfortunately, that person will never be able to know how wonderful you really were, how you gave up your own dreams in order to be with my family. We became your dream, and I thank you.
I see you everywhere. In the mountains. In the lazy currents of a river in summer. In the waves crashing down and washing away the shore. In the way a dragonfly darts through the yard.
I don't believe in God. I don't believe we will ever meet again on some otherworldly cloud. But I do believe that you are always with me, in the earth and the ocean and the life that thrives around me. I just with you could see it all with me.
Now you are gone. And so are we. Would you be proud? Or feel let down? I want to cry so much about all the things you are missing. I see things daily that make me think of you. I see so many beautiful things that you would love and will never get to experience. So many beautiful places you never got to see. I see the changes in the world that you were always hoping for: a growing awareness of the impact we have on the environment, a greater drive for acceptance of others. I can only cry when I think about how excited you would be about the specter of change.
Would you be proud of us? Would you feel we were pursuing a dream or abandoning our family? Based on our last conversation, I think you would say were are pursuing a dream. I think that you recognized that life is short and you need to take risks sometimes to get what you want. Ironic, since you only had a week left to live.
I still have your baseball mitt. The summer before the accident, Mom brought some stuff over for a yard sale. The mitt was in there, and I kept it out. It's in box, waiting for the right person. Waiting for someone who will use it and will listen when we tell stories about you. Unfortunately, that person will never be able to know how wonderful you really were, how you gave up your own dreams in order to be with my family. We became your dream, and I thank you.
I see you everywhere. In the mountains. In the lazy currents of a river in summer. In the waves crashing down and washing away the shore. In the way a dragonfly darts through the yard.
I don't believe in God. I don't believe we will ever meet again on some otherworldly cloud. But I do believe that you are always with me, in the earth and the ocean and the life that thrives around me. I just with you could see it all with me.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Dear Mom
I don't know if I could or should call you that. You gave me up when I was born. I spent so many years hating you that I never did say Thank you. I hope that giving up my sister and I was a sacrifice. I am glad that I have her. She is the most amazing person in my life. I love her so much.
I have to say that if you worried that I wouldn't have a great life, I do. It is filled with the trials and tribulations of an ever day American sailor. I know, I wasn't raised in Portugal. My new family moved to America. It is a home that i have swore a oath to die protecting.
I don't know what I would say to you if we ever met. I look for you everytime I visit. I look rather for myself and my sister in every women that walks by.
I wanted to say that i am almost over my fear of abandonment (you gave that to me), my fear of failure and my desire to separate myself from everyone that loves me. I am sorry to say, I think those are the only things you gave me besides my tendency to gain weight around the middle and my big feet.
I m tall you know, and people say that Im pretty. I am smart and happy. My real parents love me. They put up the lying stage ( I am still outgrowing), the suicide attempt( I wasn't always happy) and all the other problems that come from having adopted daughter. I am happy and I think on the verge of normalcy.
I just wanted to say that I am okay. I didn't forget you and hope that you didn't forget us. I hope that you think about me everyday. I hope that you love us still. I hope that you don't have a new family that you replaced us with. I hope that we weren't just mistakes. I hope that you know our fathers and that they mattered. I hope you weren't a prostitute. I hope a lot of things, I just wish that you would find me and tell me everything Ive been wondering about?
Oh and do I have another other brothers and sisters?
Love
your daughter,
Navygirl 03,04,1983
I have to say that if you worried that I wouldn't have a great life, I do. It is filled with the trials and tribulations of an ever day American sailor. I know, I wasn't raised in Portugal. My new family moved to America. It is a home that i have swore a oath to die protecting.
I don't know what I would say to you if we ever met. I look for you everytime I visit. I look rather for myself and my sister in every women that walks by.
I wanted to say that i am almost over my fear of abandonment (you gave that to me), my fear of failure and my desire to separate myself from everyone that loves me. I am sorry to say, I think those are the only things you gave me besides my tendency to gain weight around the middle and my big feet.
I m tall you know, and people say that Im pretty. I am smart and happy. My real parents love me. They put up the lying stage ( I am still outgrowing), the suicide attempt( I wasn't always happy) and all the other problems that come from having adopted daughter. I am happy and I think on the verge of normalcy.
I just wanted to say that I am okay. I didn't forget you and hope that you didn't forget us. I hope that you think about me everyday. I hope that you love us still. I hope that you don't have a new family that you replaced us with. I hope that we weren't just mistakes. I hope that you know our fathers and that they mattered. I hope you weren't a prostitute. I hope a lot of things, I just wish that you would find me and tell me everything Ive been wondering about?
Oh and do I have another other brothers and sisters?
Love
your daughter,
Navygirl 03,04,1983
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Dear Dad
I'm sorry I didn't take the time to wake up like normal and say good morning. Maybe if I had you'd still be here. I'm not angry at you, but I'm sad that you're missing out on everything dads are meant to be here for. I can drive now, I've finished my first year doing law at uni and I hope you'd be proud. God I miss you. XXX.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
SweetOne
I thought it was time for you to come to me. I guess I was wrong. I was in a hurry and you knew to wait despite my impatience. I long to hold you, to kiss your cheek, to hold your tiny hand in mine. I want to whisper your name to you in the dark as I cradle you, and sing the lullabies I have written for you.
I am sad. I thought you were on your way, I read about how you were growing, I even talked to you a little. But I am also hopeful. Because I know that one day you will come to me. You will fill my mother-arms, and my mother-heart and I will long for you no more -- because you will be here, with me at last.
So I am sad, not truly and not for long, but just sad that it is not time. Again.
I love you, already and always. I am, forever, your mother.
I am sad. I thought you were on your way, I read about how you were growing, I even talked to you a little. But I am also hopeful. Because I know that one day you will come to me. You will fill my mother-arms, and my mother-heart and I will long for you no more -- because you will be here, with me at last.
So I am sad, not truly and not for long, but just sad that it is not time. Again.
I love you, already and always. I am, forever, your mother.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Dear Bitchy Parents
I am a high school teacher and I am sick and tired of hearing about how it is my fault that your student is doing poorly in my class. Do you know your children? Have you ever witnessed how they act when you are not around? They are terrors from hell a good majority of the time. Your child probably craves attention from his classmates so bad because you don't give it to him at home. Yes, I would be much happier if your child were home-schooled because then you could ATTEMPT to teach them too. I love my job but it is kids like yours that make me wonder why the heck I put myself through the torture.
Do you honestly think that with 25 students in a classroom for 50 minutes 6 times a day that I have time to monitor your son/daughter every minute of the day to make sure he/she is doing what he/she is supposed to be doing? I would much rather focus on my students that aren't annoying pains-in-my-ass that are actually here to learn.
Quit blaming the stinking school systems for failing your children when you obviously are a horrible parent that will never let your kid take any of the blame for being a complete ass day in and day out. I probably make half of what you do (yes, please tell me you have a degree too, it makes you sound soooo much smarter) while I babysit your brat, so don't even complain to me about not being at home enough. I TAKE MY WORK HOME EVERYDAY! There is no such thing as "Leave it at the office" in this profession.
So please, do me a favor- with all your extra money, come build a two way mirror into my room so you can see how much restraint it takes on my part not to slap your kid silly on a daily basis. Until you can do that, keep your mouth shut and let me do my job, without interference from you because you got your grade report a week late (shouldn't your kid keep track of his/her own grade anyways!?!!). Since it is now nearing five and I have been "technically" out of work for about 2 hours now I'd like to go home where you or you kid cannot and will not annoy me.
A Teacher
Do you honestly think that with 25 students in a classroom for 50 minutes 6 times a day that I have time to monitor your son/daughter every minute of the day to make sure he/she is doing what he/she is supposed to be doing? I would much rather focus on my students that aren't annoying pains-in-my-ass that are actually here to learn.
Quit blaming the stinking school systems for failing your children when you obviously are a horrible parent that will never let your kid take any of the blame for being a complete ass day in and day out. I probably make half of what you do (yes, please tell me you have a degree too, it makes you sound soooo much smarter) while I babysit your brat, so don't even complain to me about not being at home enough. I TAKE MY WORK HOME EVERYDAY! There is no such thing as "Leave it at the office" in this profession.
So please, do me a favor- with all your extra money, come build a two way mirror into my room so you can see how much restraint it takes on my part not to slap your kid silly on a daily basis. Until you can do that, keep your mouth shut and let me do my job, without interference from you because you got your grade report a week late (shouldn't your kid keep track of his/her own grade anyways!?!!). Since it is now nearing five and I have been "technically" out of work for about 2 hours now I'd like to go home where you or you kid cannot and will not annoy me.
A Teacher
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Dear Dad
I wish I could blame it all on you. I wish I could blame my fucked up existence on the fact that you left. But then again, you did more than leave, you stopped being my dad. You tried to beat me down and make me feel like I was worthless because I loved mom, but it didn't work. You are the piece of shit, not her. No matter how many years go by I still remember the lies and the mistakes. You were never there for me and you never will be. How could you go so long without your daughter? Eleven years and then you were manipulative when I saw you. I looked past it though, I called you when it should have been the other way around. But by that time I already knew I had to be the adult in the relationship. I thought we were working towards being closer. The that night happened. I'm sorry I wished I could have done something. Maybe if I reached out you would still be here. As much as they tell me not to blame myself, I do. I wish you didn't kill yourself and I wish that you were still here. I know I don't admit it but it's because I've been hurt so many times by you I'm afraid that even in death you'll find a way to hurt me. I've tried to forgive you, maybe this will help.
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