Day 55

Dear Dad,

Do you think there’s ever been someone who didn’t know about a child but just knew they were missing one?  What?

Bye.

Day 52

Hey Dad,

I was thinking today, “Hey, why not do a Lent-type thing in addition to my irrevocable vow to blog everyday?”  So I think I will.  And I think it’s going to be something lame, like a prayer every day.  Although I did toy with the idea of giving up blogging for 40 days…

Yeah, I know:  not super creative or new, but whatever.  Why fix what ain’t broke?

So, what will I write a prayer about every day?  Probably different junk; but I want to try to focus on my familial relationships– you, my mom, my family, perhaps even my in-laws; my relationship with God.  I don’t know what I hope to gain out of this, but I’ve probably never intentionally prayed every day for more than a few days in a row.  I hate praying sometimes and think I suck at it.

Here’s hoping it doesn’t suck too bad!

AM

Day 38

Dear Dad,

I don’t know why I didn’t just make a blog where I write about my life.  Well, I mean, I guess I did that on accident, ’cause this blog is basically me writing about my life.  I just pretend to write you a letter while I do it.  Is that like lying?

On nights like tonight, when Zoe screams for approximately the entire 2 hours she’s awake between her “nap” and bedtime, I wonder if you and I don’t have a better chance than most parent/child relationships.  I say that because tonight I dumped water on Zoe’s head as she was screeching that she did not want her hair to get wet (she was in the tub); which made her howl even louder and made me wonder what kind of parent I am.  And, more importantly, what kind of wounds I’m already inflicting on her.

But you!  You weren’t around to scar me.   You weren’t around to dump a glass of water on my head when I threw a tantrum (I was not in the tub).  You didn’t slam my fingers in the door not once but twice and leave a scar on my fingers (it was an accident, really).  You weren’t there for all the extremely painful pubescent moments from age 12 on.  We have a clean slate, you and I.

I have hope for meeting you yet.

AM

Day 36

Dear Dad,

Meet Zoe Feodora.  This is her a month or two ago, wearing a crazy outfit, with her eyes closed, paci inserted, mid-twirl and dance.

She is almost 2.5 and very full of life (which is what “Zoe” means).  She is incredibly passionate, caring, sweet and funny.

She likes to just sit and read, to dance and run, to give kisses, and ask a lot of questions.

She loves cookies, french fries, grapes, and apple juice.  She eats oatmeal almost every morning for breakfast and has since she was just 6 or so months old.

She loves baths, kitties, walking and running.

She likes to help around the house:  doing dishes, sweeping, cleaning up spills.

I wonder if I was like her when I was little?  I wonder if I really had a chance to be.

Maybe you’ll get to meet her one day,

AM

Day 30

Dear Dad,

I’m sort of running dry on topics tonight.  I’ll tell you something that might surprise you (or not):  I really like Sci-fi stuff.  I grew up watching Star Trek: TNG and always pretended to be LeVar Burton’s character by putting a headband over my eyes.

I sometimes think that I don’t like Sci-fi, but I totally do.  I like Alien/s; I like Terminator; I like anything having to do with time travel and/or the space time continuum.

I just do!

AM

Day 28

Dear Dad,

Today, I went to Whole Foods. I’ve only been one other time.  I started to panic as soon as I started looking up the directions to get there.  It was like a whole new world to me.

I don’t know what it is about doing new things that I hate so much, but I really do not care for it.  Right now in my life, at the tender age of 24, I’ve gotten my anxiety pretty well under control (after 1-2 years of counseling and prayers of release).  But sometimes it really just rears up.

Like what is scary about going to a grocery store?  That sells things that I like?  Yeah, it’s a bit of a drive from this side of town, but it’s not like I’ve never driven to 86th Street before.  Something about not knowing exactly where everything was, or the prices, or what to expect when I got there just made me feel like I couldn’t do it.  I almost didn’t go.

There are so many things I don’t do out of fear still:  be creative– poetry, music, drawing; try to learn new skills; grad school.  I’m still scared I’m not good enough, that people will laugh at me if I try.

I think I’ve been hurt a lot, but I also think I have to keep pushing myself to do hard things.  Even if I fail, at least I’ll have tried.  Ah, how the trite and cliche rings so true…   But really, I’m scared to meet you.  I don’t know if I want to do it.  I’m still trying to figure it out.  You are slightly more intimidating than a new grocery store.

See ya,

AM

Day 27

Dear Dad,

I’m feeling a lot better but still not quite at full force.  It was really hard being sick and having the kids to take care of; they really don’t get it when mommy is not feeling well.  And, unfortunately, if you try to stick them in bed all day, they get pretty pissed about that kinda thing too.

But I made it.  Probably by the grace of God.  I prayed a lot when I was sick.  For healing.  For strength.  To say that I felt like Job (which of course is always an exaggeration… but I really connect to Job’s story in the Bible) and hated God for letting me get sick.  I also kept thinking of times when I would get sick, and not even as sick I was this past week, and all I had to worry about was school and work.  Ah, those were the days.  Those were still stressful times.  And now these are also stressful times.  Go figure.

Luckily, Lazarus is really cute, and Zoe’s quite helpful.  She would often give me things that I “needed” with a “Oh, here you go, Sweetheart.”  That sweetness probably melted the infection right out of me.

But, right now, everything is chaos and feels like I’ve lost the past 2 weeks to illness (first L’s and then my own).  And we’re hoping that no one else gets sick.  Because if Joe gets sick, well, that becomes a financial issue.  Which always causes stress.

Oh, my kidney is hurting I am so stressed out just thinking of Joe getting sick.  Or maybe it’s the massive amounts of Tylenol and cough syrup I’ve taken in the last 4 days?  I’ll never know for sure…

 

Maybe something that makes sense awaits you tomorrow?  (But I wouldn’t hold my breath.)

AM

Day 20

Dear Dad,

This is my little baby Lazarus.  I know the picture’s a little blurry, but this image captures his personality so well.  I’m thinking about what it will be like to get to know him as he grows.  All the little moments, like this one, that will add up to the big picture of who he is in entirety.

You don’t get that with me.  Or, I mean, you didn’t get that with me.  And I wonder if that’s something that can even be overcome?  Will you ever be able to be a parent to me– not in the sense of parenting me, obviously; but in that being who I would think of you as.  Does that make any sense?

Like my mom is my mom; always has been, always will.  Whether she is mean, emotionally cloy, or otherwise, she will always have the standing in my life of mom.

But what will you be?

You’ll be… like nothing I can think of to compare you to.  I’ve never really had even a “father-figure” type in my life, so I don’t have that to gauge what fathers are like.  I have stories friends tell about their dads (good and bad, of course).  I have TV shows that show me different story lines of fathers in fictionalized settings.  But you won’t be like any of that, really.

I might not meet you until I’m 25, 28, maybe 40 if I really drag my feet.  What’s it like to try to appropriate a “father” at that point in life?  At this point in life?

I’ve left the nest and started my own family.  I am a mother for goodness’ sake.  I am trying to be a parent at this time, not trying to be parented.

And all the hard work of getting to know someone in the middle of his life?  Trying to delicately step into someone’s established family?  And what will your kids think of you?  Your wife?  Your own parents?

This all makes me wonder if I won’t do you more harm in trying to contact you than I will be doing good for myself.

Does that even matter?

Sorry if I ruin your life,

AM

Day 19

Dear Dad,

Yesterday’s post/realization still really bums me out.  I guess philosophically I believe that only Jesus can save me, but maybe I keep hoping I’ll find something here and now that will do it, too.  Something that will save me from what exactly?  Just that gaping hole that we all have that’ll only be totally and completely filled when the world is new and Christ has come again.  But I still cling to the idea that maybe something could fill it… and nothing can.  So disappointing.

The other night I was talking about how my mom has a master’s degree and both of Joe’s mom has a master’s too (and I think I thought his dad did, but actually I don’t think that’s true).  But it made me think about the value of education/how elitist I am about education (or, rather, people who have a “lack” of higher education).  Then that made me think of you.  I wonder what you do for a living and what kind of person you are?

More importantly, I wonder if I’ll just look down on you if you’ve only got a high school education (which, as I’m writing this, I realize is almost definitely not true as you and my mom met in college… but maybe you didn’t finish?  I guess you’d still have some college to your name, though… anyway…)?  I wonder if you work at a “blue collar” job and that I’ll somehow not be able to deal with that?

It seems obvious to me that there’s a lot of judgmental junk that I carry in my heart.  And, lucky you, you’ll probably bear the brunt of it.

It’s times like this that I think meeting you might be a mistake.  Like maybe I can’t handle what the truth of who you are as a person means for me.  Like you won’t be good enough for me.  And maybe I have expectations that I can’t even name yet that you won’t possibly live up to.

Who knew someone you’ve never met and rarely thought about would have so many expectations placed upon him?

Sorry I’m judge-y,

AM

Day 14!

Dear Dad,

I am very sleepy. I need to get into a better habit/routine with these “letters”. Like, maybe write them during the day when my brain works? Although, I feel like my brain only works once a day for about 35 minutes…

Zoe is really crazy when she doesn’t nap. I wonder if I was when I was little? I wonder if your kids are crazy when they don’t nap, too?

Wow, that is really blowing my mind– how can I be that much older than your kids? I mean, assuming those were your kids in that picture on Facebook. What are they, like 10 and 12 or something? And those are (potentially) my siblings! WHAT.

I just can’t even handle the thought right now for some reason. Having undiscovered siblings seems like way too much right now to even think about. Who does that? Who finds out about their much older sister one day?

For some reason, though, I also feel really excited by the idea that I have a brother and sister. Zoe and Laz can have more than one uncle. They could have TWO uncles AND an aunt.

When I was 11, your kids weren’t even born yet. That is just… bizarre.

Welcome to Bizarro World, Pops;
AM