Dear Dad,
This week is your birthday, and it is the second birthday where I cannot celebrate with you. My heart breaks a little every time I think about it because I know that you're in a better place, yet, I still feel selfish for even missing you. I just wanted to tell you a few things.
The first thing is that I'm so glad that I was blessed enough to spend 19 years with you -- to laugh, learn and grow from you. I'm glad that you raised me, and hopefully I turned out semi-decent. Thanks for teaching me everything I know, for arguing with me when you thought you were right, even though I was, and for always believing in me.
The second thing I want tell you is that even though you have been gone a year and a half, I still feel enormous guilt for not being there for you when I should have been, and yes, I say should heavily. I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself for not being there for you, but what I do hope is that you knew that I loved you. I know others can say that you did or you understood, but I think only you can speak for yourself. I just need you to know that I love you, and it was bad and selfish on my part. If I could take it back, believe me, I would. I guess it's selfish of me to even ask for your forgiveness.
The third thing I would tell my crazy school year, and how successful I have been. I was featured in a regional magazine (Milwaukee Magazine), spoke in front of important people at Stritch, did a huge project, am doing another huge project, will have two internships this summer, and am currently up for two awards. I will find out if I won one of them on your birthday, I so desperately wish I could hear how proud you are of me, because you always said it and I miss hearing it from you. I wish you could have bought 30 copies of the Milwaukee Magazine just to brag to your colleagues or anyone else about it. I wish you could be at all of these things, talk to me on the phone, and hear the excitement in my voice, which doesn't happen that much anymore. You were my go-to person, my number one cheerleader, and I miss you. The last thing you ever said to me was that you were proud of me.
The fourth thing I wish I could do is honestly just have our nightly conversations. I've alluded to talking to you on the phone a lot, but those nightly conversations I miss so much. We would talk about anything and everything, and the conversation usually started with, "How are you?" and then I would say I was fine, and you would ask, "How's school and have you learned anything?" and I would say fine and nothing, even though I probably did learn something. I'd ask how you were, hear about your day, you'd hear about mine. I would tell you how stressed I was and you would tell me you believed in me and I could do it, even if I didn't think I could. I need those words right now. I might be biased, but I think we always had the best conversations.
And lastly, while there are a thousand things I wish I could tell you or do with you (like go out to dinner, see a movie, pet a dog), I just wanted to say "Happy Birthday, Dad." I will always miss you, and I'm sure that that will never stop. I'm not sure where you are, but if Heaven exists, I know you're up there with your dog who you gave the most ridiculous name to. I hope you're looking down watching over me today and every day, and I hope I'm making you proud. I wish you could be here, hopefully for these award ceremonies or for graduation, but I'm glad you're no longer in pain. I hope your birthday is amazing, and you do something that is fun.
I love you, Dad, today and every day. Stay with me until the day I am reunited with you. I miss you and your sass.
Love,
Angel
