Dear Dad,
I’ve been sat here for an hour trying to think of someone else that I have missed, even remotely, so that I would not have to write another letter about you. I already tried writing about you on Day 11 and Day 12. That didn’t go so well, and these are the only two days so far where I have failed to complete the daily challenge. I don’t count that as having failed the challenge totally, as this experimental journey is not so much about writing 30 bloody letters, but instead about – well, it is about writing 30 letters, but not about the actual writing, more about the letters. Look, it’s late, and I’m not making much sense.
Anyway, back to what I was saying. I was trying to think of someone who I have missed more than you. And I just can’t. I have missed you since I was 13 years old. I have missed you for 20 long years of feeling abandoned. The damage you’ve done… Paul, Dad, all I ever wanted was for you to be there for me. To love me. To encourage and guide me. I didn’t want your money, I only wanted your time. And now it’s too late, because you’re kinda dead and I kinda said/did a lot of things around the time of your funeral which you probably wouldn’t like. You might understand them, but you’d not like them. I was disrespectful to someone you loved. I was hurting. And I maybe was jealous that you loved her and you didn’t love me. Or maybe you did. In your own way. Either way, it doesn’t really matter now. The last time I saw you alive was in 2003. I do regret not keeping in touch. That is probably the first time I have admitted that. I always thought about you, and even now you’re no longer alive, I think about you still.
I miss you. I love you. No matter what you did, or didn’t do. No matter how our relationship panned out. I realise that I love you unconditionally. As only a son could love his father, or a father could love his son.
Who am I crying for? Am I crying for you? Or am I crying for me?
I promise that I will make you proud.
I miss you.
Alan
