When I was younger and while you were away for days & weeks, I waited for you. I can remember looking out the window waiting to watch your car drive down the street, that never came..
As an adult I can remember the days & nights begging God to help you, because I knew I couldn’t. I prayed to God that he would give you authentic joy & happiness, so you didn’t have to resort to pain killers for that fake high, just to survive.
While you were fighting to end your life, I was battling to save it.
I remember trying to get a hold of you after not hearing from you in several days, maybe even weeks… Calls after calls and calls & texts after texts, you wouldn’t answer. I thought maybe he will respond if I tell him it’s an emergency..
I was worried you were unconscious drowning in a self-medicated pool of pain killers. I was worried you were dead.
I remember trying to see you, asking you to go out to dinner with me, and your response being you didn’t have the money to go out to eat. Then I would invite you over for dinner, to be given the excuse you didn’t have the money for gas to drive over.
No matter what I said, there was always that excuse that you couldn’t see me. I knew that was the drugs talking, not my dad.
While you pushed me away, I faithfully tried to pull you closer.
I can remember having so much hope for you every time you told me you were getting off pain killers, and just how heartbroken I was every time those dreams were shattered.
I hated the way that you could shatter my heart over and over, but I always knew that something bigger had control over you.
I was angry, I was sad & depressed. I loved you, but sometimes God I hated you. I hated what you had become. I hated that you had no control over your life. But all I wanted to do was take your pain away.
All I wanted was my dad back.
Why don’t you love me enough to stop the pills?
Why don’t you love me enough to get better?
Why don’t you love me enough to want to see me?
I thought I could fix you. I thought when it came down to the choice of me, your daughter, your own flesh & blood or your addiction, you would surely choose me…
I thought wrong…
I loved you so much, that I had to let you go..
Let go of the hurt
Let go of the disappointment
Let go of the pain that was buried deep inside me, watching my dad wither away.
The man I once felt so safe with, the man who loved me unconditionally, the man I always wanted to make proud, withered away and died May 20, 2011, at the young age of 54.
My dad died years before 2011, because pain killers took him to an early grave.
The pain killers slowly consumed him, ate him alive and eventually killed him. While ripping apart a family, taking away happiness and leaving an empty hole that will never be filled.
He left behind a daughter, a grandson, a whole family that loved him unconditionally.
I am lucky that my son only knows good & happy stories of his Grandpa that make him proud to be his grandson. Not the grandpa who was drugged, addicted, unhappy and lifeless. My son didn’t have to go through the pain & hurt of watching his grandpa lose control over his life.
I made the choice to let go, the hardest decision I had to make, but I had to protect my son and myself from the misery and torture of watching someone you love battle addiction.
May my dad finally rest in peace and I hope this letter sheds some light on addiction, and to never start this path of destruction & torment.