An open letter; to the man who raised me.
Happy Father's Day.
You didn't have to love me. You didn't have to, but you did. I was young, and yet already a bit damaged. I had a father, but I needed a dad. You didn't have to work hard to become that person.
We both know we are not ones for heartfelt words, we do not do that often. I know we crack jokes at each other, like "hey, you married into this." And I know we act silly and sometimes a little crazy. And I know I don't know a thing about the patriots. And I know I still sleep with the lights on and it drives you nuts.
There are so many things you as a father deserve to hear. It won't happen everyday though... So don't get too excited, haha.
But, in all seriousness... thank you.
You didn't have to wait for me to...
Family
Recently there has been some devastating tragedies where parents have lost their children and came close to losing their children. The incident with the boy and the gorilla. The tragic accident with the toddler and the alligator. And a 14 year old boy getting lost at Mrytle Beach. The very first thing that people want to say is, "where were the parents?" "Why weren't they watching their kids?"
Let me tell you.. They were!!! Are children not allowed to have fun these days? Are accidents no longer accidents? It is physically impossible to keep your eyes glued to your child every second. Can children not explore things? Can a family not go on vacation or go on an outing and have an accident without the entire world pointing fingers at them and telling them how much they could've...
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At 19 almost 20 with you about to be 2 years old, I'm finally learning to let go: of old times and memories, pictures, and toxic love. While starting over isn’t easy and each day is a true struggle, you have no clue how grateful I am that you exists and just how often you keep me breathing.
Your smile, laughs, hugs, kisses, and yes even those rotten looks and temper-tantrums you throw. All of it makes each day a little sassier and a whole lot sweeter. Most days I can put on a smile and seem just fine, other days aren’t so easy, I feel as though I’ve hit rock bottom and I’m strangely standing still while the rest of the world seems to still keep spinning. I try being positive and telling myself the Lord will fight for me and I need only to be still, often some things are easier said than...
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At 19 almost 20 with you about to be 2 years old, I'm finally learning to let go: of old times and memories, pictures, and toxic love. While starting over isn’t easy and each day is a true struggle, you have no clue how grateful I am that you exists and just how often you keep me breathing. Your smile, laughs, hugs, kisses, and yes even those rotten looks and temper-tantrums you throw. All of it makes each day a little sassier and a whole lot sweeter. Most days I can put on a smile and seem just fine, other days aren’t so easy, I feel as though I’ve hit rock bottom and I’m strangely standing still while the rest of the world seems to still keep spinning. I try being positive and telling myself the Lord will fight for me and I need only to be still, often some things are easier said than...
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After careful consideration and continued experience with a topic that I am quite certain many people have never considered, I am writing to the caring people who have unintentionally interrupted the transition of our family unit, or at the very least, created confusion among each of us.
I am the wife of 22 years to a wonderful man and the mother to 6 children. Our story of adventure, faith, love, and family is absolutely my favorite story of all. It is a beautiful story that depicts all things from agony to victory. In September, seven years ago, I traveled across the Atlantic ocean to a small African country, Sierra Leone. I was there on a mission trip to assist in opening an orphanage, but my mission became overtly more personal than anyone in my family anticipated.
Earlier...
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I more often than not presumed that the different phases of my life would evolve and flow peacefully like a silent river, the one without any whirlpool, the one without any strong currents. At sub-conscious level, I failed to understand the reason for this presumption. At the conscious level though, the reasons were quiet obvious. Being born in a typical middle class Indian family in Mumbai, where parental support forms the bedrock of one’s very existence, I never made a conscious effort to analyze the nature of my relationship with my parents, especially my mother. As any other kid born with my background, my life was scripted and I played the part.
I never imagined that the script would have twists and turns; that the script would have drama, the script would force me to make...
2,592
I used to look up to you. You were the one I wanted to be like when I grew up. To me, you were Superman. Little did my 7-year-old self know that you were nothing like that.
You always demanded respect from me, but never seemed to give it.
Your way of resolving things was through shouting matches and broken glass.
Now that I look back on my childhood, I see how naive I was. I realized the meaning of the saying “love is blind”. I looked past your wrong doings and ignored mom’s cries because I cared too much for you. I wish I had listened to her and left the first time she asked me to, but I was too foolish. I pushed my ideology of “complete family = happy family” onto her, thus forcing her to put up with your abuse for years.
I am on the brink of adulthood now, and I now see...
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My parents divorced when I was 24 after a very surprising affair.
It tore me to pieces. My parents were never especially nice to one another, so while the divorce was not completely out of left field, it was still a shock realizing what this new reality meant.
My mother started dating a year after they split up. She was in all honestly, probably not mentally ready. (She was emotionally distraught for years after she found out about the affair.) When I first met the man she was dating, I thought he was nice enough and seemed to treat my mom very well.
Over the next few months however, I started learning a number of not so great things about him - all things my mother told me. He had the CRA after him for a boat load of unpaid taxes. He frittered his money away on absolutely...
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This is an open letter to my father.
To my father who did not come to my undergraduate graduation ceremony four days ago.
To my father who has never asked me if I needed anything.
To my father who has never supported anything I've done.
To my father who my boyfriend had to force to attend my junior college graduation two years ago.
To my father who criticizes everything I do.
To my father who doesn't know how to have a conversation with me.
To my father who decided he would rather paint a house than attend my graduation.
To my father who looked me in my eyes and lied when he said he was leaving for the ceremony soon.
To my father who, not one month ago, I went to the store to buy soft food for because he was so sick he could barely eat.
To my father who came...
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Dear Little Brother,
I saved you last night.
I drove to you. I found you. I kicked in someone's door, who was just as far gone as you. I stood up to that KID. I got you out of there. And for a moment, you were safe. For a moment, I was able to protect you.
But it was all a dream.
I woke up, in tears, and cold chills, thinking about where you could be.
Did I do this? Is it because I wasn't here?
Did I do this? Is it because you needed a friend, and your big sister was off in college trying to make a life for herself, and wasn't here to keep you straight?
Did I do this? Did I forget to tell you that I love you?
Did I do this?
Blaming myself becomes easier and easier as I lay here and think about the empty bed in the room next to me. I just want you home. Safe.
We had...
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