Dear Dad,

There’s a lot of things that I hesitate to say every single time I call you. Your brain doesn’t let you process ideas that are outside of our normal scope of conversation, like what ice cream flavor is your favorite this week and how my cat is doing. There’s a lot you’ve missed, for a better way of putting it. There’s a lot of conversations that we’ll never get to have. There’s a lot of laughs we won’t get to share. I know you won’t ever be able to fully process this letter and I don’t necessarily know whom I’m addressing it to. I just think I have to tell someone, anyone in the world, the things I’ve always wanted to tell you.

I can’t think about you too much without crying. I feel like a grown child a lot of the time, waiting for you to come home from your job in Astoria and for me to run out from behind the TV stand and into your arms. That version of you can never come home, your arms can’t support me anymore, and as much as I can write that concept down, I still can’t believe it. It’s been years, and it just doesn’t click for me. I think I’m always going to be a little girl waiting for her daddy to come home and save her.

Speaking of, you set the standard astronomically high. You did everything for me. You would’ve stolen the sun if I was in a dark place. Dad, it’s so dark without you. I don’t need the sun, I need the brightness in your smile. You can’t control the muscles in your face anymore. I’ll never have the simplicity of your smile ever again, only in memory.

I find pieces of you everywhere. I yearn for you, and I chase any reminder of you. Guitars, birds, stray cats, quarters, shitbox cars, and acts of service. It’s hard for me to let people do things for me because I miss when I could put my whole life into your arms, but Dad, I’m so tired. It’s hard to sleep without your guitar lullabies. I miss when they annoyed me, I didn’t realize the privilege of you, and how finite your existence is, or was.

There’s a conversation we have every few months that you would’ve hated. I don’t think you’d like my answer, but I hope that in whatever void your brain has dissipated into, you understand why I made the decision that I do. You call me in a desolate place, reminding me of how badly your body hurts. You tell me about how you don’t know where you are, and how scared you are. I try and affirm you, but Dad, you always let it slip that you’re waiting for the inevitable.

You remind me of what I already know- the fact that you want to die.

Dad, I’m sorry that I told you it’s okay to. I know you would’ve wanted me to push you to live, being the overachiever you are. I don’t have it in my heart to keep you alive to suffer, I just don’t. So, I tell you that I forgive you. When, or if it happens and if it’s in your control, I won’t blame you. I’m in no position to judge you or tell you to act differently. Of course it will break my heart, but in a way, it already has. The end is creeping up on us, it doesn’t make sense to act like it isn’t here. Daddy, I don’t want you to die. I’m scared every day of the phone call that I know I’m constantly seconds closer to receiving. I couldn’t breathe when I saw the ambulance take you away when I was a senior in high school, or when I got the call that you weren’t breathing last year. But, I can’t sit here and act like you have many reasons left to stay. So I affirm to you that I’ll be okay, I’ll call your mom and make sure she’s okay and I’ll keep the house clean. I know I will survive your death. Somehow, my heart hasn’t stopped beating and I’ve watched you die every day for the last four years. Against my own will, I know that I will survive.

There’s a lot of little things, too. Those sting a lot.

I made a new friend in college! Her name is Lorelei, and I don’t think I could imagine my life without her. I’m living in my first house next year. I’m in a sorority and found some of my forever best friends in it. I wrote two books, and I’m releasing my third soon. Your writing is in it, and I wrote about you in all of them. How could I not? I got flowers for the first time the other day. They’re really pretty. They’re actually the same roses we planted together when I was little. That made me cry a little, too. Your presence is visible in everything I do. I learned some songs on guitar, so I could sing you to sleep. As bedtime used to be hard for me, I know it’s now hard for you too. I feel like I look more and more like you every day. I’m so proud of my resemblance to you.

Dad, you were the best example I could’ve had. Between your ten languages, the love for tattoos you share with me, your talent with music that I inherited, and your intellect, I couldn’t have imagined a better dad. The only issue I’ve ever faced with you is your absence, which is such a testament to your character and the love you gave me, so effortlessly.

I have so many questions that I wish I could ask you until I remember that I have your brain. We finish each other’s sentences, so you losing your ability to talk after being hit by a truck didn’t change much. I feel lucky that my internal monologue has a doctorate and the biggest heart I’ve ever known. That doesn’t change the fact that I miss the days where I could hear our shared words in your voice, coming from your mouth, with the tone of someone who loved me more than anything.

Dad, I have no problem taking care of you as I do because of how kindly and effortlessly you took care of me. I’ve started healing from being raised by my mother, and I wish you didn’t have to live with someone who hates you. I’m watching myself become kinder and softer, and suddenly I’m resembling you in my actions and not her. I like being gentle. You were always called a teddy bear for your kindness, and I used to think that combativeness would save me. You’ve always been right, so I cherish my disposition that I’m growing into.

I never doubt that you’d be proud of me because of how often you reminded me that you’d were, I just wish you were here to see my life. I don’t know how to end this letter, other than telling you that I can’t wait to find you as my best friend in the next life, too. I’m excited for the day that I find out where our souls go, and mine gets to run into your arms and be carried by yours once again. I miss you with every fiber in my body, and you will always be the best thing that ever happened to me.