Status: Active; aiming for one update each day
30 Letters, 30 Days
My Parents
Dear Dad
I know that you love me, I just wish you'd show it more.
Scenario...
Claire: "Hey Dad. Guess what mark I got in my exam."
Dad: "Mmm..."
You don't even look up
Claire: "95%"
Dad: "That's great Claire."
That's when the conversation ends, no obvious interest shown at all.
Fast forward a bit, and my brother enters. He tells you something he did, something he accomplished. Straight away I see the smile on your face, pride radiating.
Why can't I see that when its me. Maybe I'm imagining things, maybe I'm reading too much into it. Or maybe its because you never saw me grow up, you were always working, or busy. So you don't know what to do, what to say, because you never had to before. I'm going with the last one. I used to listen to my friends talking about their dad, and all I could say about mine was he works. You were never around.
Don't get me wrong, I never used to mind. It's what I grew up with, I didn't know any better. My perception of families has always been the mum is at home, and the dad works. So why would I have minded then?
But now, its getting to the point where I do mind. So much so that I see my grandad as more of a father to me. He's the one teaching me to drive, he's the one helping me with school, he's the one coming to my aid when I need it. He's the one telling his friends about me, and saying how proud he is of me. He's the one I want to spend time with.
So Dad, I love you, how can I not? You are my father afterall. But sometimes, its not enough, and I'm sorry.
I know that you love me, I just wish you'd show it more.
Scenario...
Claire: "Hey Dad. Guess what mark I got in my exam."
Dad: "Mmm..."
You don't even look up
Claire: "95%"
Dad: "That's great Claire."
That's when the conversation ends, no obvious interest shown at all.
Fast forward a bit, and my brother enters. He tells you something he did, something he accomplished. Straight away I see the smile on your face, pride radiating.
Why can't I see that when its me. Maybe I'm imagining things, maybe I'm reading too much into it. Or maybe its because you never saw me grow up, you were always working, or busy. So you don't know what to do, what to say, because you never had to before. I'm going with the last one. I used to listen to my friends talking about their dad, and all I could say about mine was he works. You were never around.
Don't get me wrong, I never used to mind. It's what I grew up with, I didn't know any better. My perception of families has always been the mum is at home, and the dad works. So why would I have minded then?
But now, its getting to the point where I do mind. So much so that I see my grandad as more of a father to me. He's the one teaching me to drive, he's the one helping me with school, he's the one coming to my aid when I need it. He's the one telling his friends about me, and saying how proud he is of me. He's the one I want to spend time with.
So Dad, I love you, how can I not? You are my father afterall. But sometimes, its not enough, and I'm sorry.
♠ ♠ ♠
I know the letter was supposed to be to my parents, but I felt like I had more to say to my dad, things that I needed to get out. Maybe he'll never see it, but I just needed to write it. My mum knows how much I love and appreciate her, but Dad doesn't. And that's because of the stuff written in this letter. That's why the letter is just to him, rather than both my parents.Thanks for reading,
Claire xx