Monday, October 13, 2008

An open letter




Dear George,

I was trying to hold off writing this letter until the anniversary of your death, but I feel it can wait no longer. For the first time since you got sick, I cried tonight. I have been nothing but numb since those days a little over a year ago. I feel nothing but guilt over it. I should have shown you in those final days how much I cared for you and how much you meant to my life. For some reason I couldn’t, I don’t know why, I have no excuse.

Since then I have been unable to conjure up any kind of emotion for anything. I feel like I have been incapable of loving anyone, including myself. I am completely eaten up with guilt for being such a bad son to you. I know a lot of people (including you) would take this opportunity to disagree with me. I know in my heart that it is true. I know in my heart that I never gave near enough back to you for everything you did for me. I know in my heart that I continue to not give enough back to my mother, your beautiful wife.

I was supposed to be there that night; I was supposed to come the measly mile to see you in the hospital. Regardless of the fact that you were coming home the next night. You were in the hospital and I should have been there, there is no good enough reason in the world for me not being there. I know there is no way for me to know that I would never see you again, but I knew damn well that the days were drawing near. You would have never gone a day without seeing me if the situation was reversed.

I don’t know why I’m such an asshole. You did not raise me that way. You are the man that five days before you died, text messaged me to say happy birthday. I would give anything for those last days back. I know you are in a much better place now and I would say that I will see you again, but if heaven is a place for people like you, then I’m not sure I have any business there.

For a man that never wanted children, you became the best father any child could have asked for. You were a truly amazing man. I’m sorry I was not there for you when you needed an amazing son, you deserved it. My niece and two nephews are so lucky that they had an amazing grandfather. If I someday have children, I promise that they will know their grandfather too, if only in words and pictures. I can only hope to be half the father you were, with twice the son you had.

I love you George, I can’t now remember if I ever told you that. Yet another of my failures in an embarrassingly long line of them. Please forgive me, maybe if I can believe that you have, I can find some peace. Please thank God for me, he finally allowed me to cry tonight.

Your loving son,

Chris

6 comments:

Michelle said...

Well said. Hang in there.

jcobbteach1 said...

Now that I have dried my eyes...know that he is deffinately smiling.

"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you." Maya Angelou

PJ said...

Wow! I'm sure he knows -- and knew then -- your heart. Tears are a good thing for cleansing. Blessings and prayers!

Alexandra MacVean said...

I don't know you at all, but...(gulp) wow! Hang in there, Chris.

Anonymous said...

That was beautifully put, Chris! Thank you for sharing it with us! I too can identify with the guilt of feeling as though I failed my father in his last months with us. It's honestly something that is never too far from my mind. We could play the "What If?" game forever, and ultimately realize there is no winner. Your honesty is inspiring, and your pain is clear. I'm sorry for you, your loss, and this excruciating struggle of emotions you're enduring. Please know you're not alone and your father would be undoubtedly proud of you!!!

b. luis grey said...

Very intimate letter.