To My Old Man

To My Old Man

I love you always, Your Little Girl

Father dearest,

There isn’t a single card that would explain how much you mean to me, so here I am taking a shot at it.

Dad, I love you so much and I am very thankful for all that you’ve ever done for me. I seem to forget to remind you of it, and I sure do take advantage of everything you do for me. It may not always seem like I am grateful, but I truly am.

You will always be the most important man in my life. I will always want to make you proud in everything I do, and your support helps me through it all. Your simple reminders and jokes about how I could either do better or that you are proud of me mean the world coming from you.

I would simply like to thank you, so thank you.

Thank you for being my personal handyman at home and when I am moving to and from school. Sometimes I like to just think of a project for you to work on because of how much you love fixing and hanging up things on the walls or just staring at a construction site. Or maybe it is to give you something to do so you leave me alone...

Thank you for all of your terrible dad jokes, and I guess your sarcasm too. I am able to take any type of humor that comes my way now. You taught me well.

Thank you for the blue eyes. They are the first thing people notice about me because they pop so much. Credit goes to my old man. (Yeah that’s you).

Thank you for always pointing out when puppers is choosing hanging out with you over me. There always has to be some competition between you and I and competing for the dog’s attention is the latest one we could think of. Sorry, she likes me better! Probably because I don’t create a voice tone that I say is hers and talk in it when you think you know her thought process...

Thank you for showing me what determination and having a good work ethic look like. You never quit a project until it is fully finished, and I admire that.

Thank you for always allowing me to come home from school whenever I would like. Although sometimes it seems like I’m home a lot more than I should be, you joke about it and then are so happy to have me there. Thank you for welcoming me home, but also allowing me to experience the college lifestyle. Without your encouragement, expectations, and love, I would not be able to get through it all because honestly, adulting is really hard. I don’t know how you and mom do it.

Thank you for always being up for a Saturday morning bike ride. We never fail to find a new trail or location we want to try next. I am so happy we discovered our favorite hidden gem coffee shop together. Visits there always make the day ten times better.

Thank you for teaching me how to love St. Louis Blues hockey and Cardinals baseball. These sports bring us together in a special way as we never fail to keep each other updated or rub it in each other’s faces that one gets to go to the game without the other.

Thank you for sitting through the many dance competitions way back when. I know having three daughters, those could be very extensive, but you are one trooper I must say! And with that, thank you for also being my soccer coach. You’re lucky I was on your team because otherwise there would be no one else for you to force into being the goalie when no one else wanted to. Long live the line “EUREKA, STOP STANDING AROUND!!!”

Thank you for taking care of me when I got my wisdom teeth taken out. As you may know, because it is an inside joke now, I think I already thanked you enough for this one.

These are just a few of the things I am thankful for. Believe me, the list could go on and on.

Dad, you have sacrificed so much more than I could ever imagine someone could for our family. I am truly blessed that God gave me such a loving and caring father like you.

I love that you make nicknames up for everyone.

I love that we all know how you will answer the phone when we call from being out of town. It typically goes like this: Mom will answer the phone and we will talk. Then she will proceed to ask if I want to talk to you which most of the time I dread. Just because I know how the conversation will start. “Hello?” “Hi, Dad.” “Who’s this?” “Megan.” “Megan who?” “Your daughter…?!” “Oh, hi, Megan, my daughter.” I’m glad that I have learned over the years to just go straight into a conversation and ignore all of these frustrating questions.

I love how every Sunday night the family would all gather together and watch Extreme Home Makeover. And we’d laugh at the end because you would be bawling because of how amazing the show is. Yeah, we all know you’re a softy.

I love that you force us all to listen to your odd music taste of the blues. When you catch us singing along to the songs (you play on the patio every weekend I must add), your entire face lights up. It’s as if you’re catching us doing something that you never thought you would. Because that is exactly what you are seeing. We would never think of ourselves as singing your weird music either.

I love that we all know you are “Mr. No.” If we ask a question that you don’t want to hear, you automatically say no. And with no explanation too. Sometimes it is very frustrating, but we have come to accept and love it. (I guess..)

I love when you get home from your last day of work before a vacation because “Vacation Daddy” is the most fun guy to be around. You are always so happy and excited to be taking a break, and I get excited too because that means no more work getting in the way and making you “Crabby Daddy.”

I love that we know who ate all of the cookies when we wake up in the morning and they’re all gone. You are the epitome of the cookie monster. Even when we say they are off limits, you have to try one. Then you use your line of “I’m not sure if it tastes good; I’ll have to try another.”

And the best for last. I love your dance moves. You don’t dance often, but when you do, we are sure to name the moves that you comes up with. There is one in particular that always makes me laugh. We call it “The Daddy Kick.” Random kicks flying from short pops is such a hilarious sight to see.

Dad, I love you so much. You have raised me to be the woman I am today, and I will always cherish that. You have raised three beautiful, smart, kind, and caring daughters. You are our hero.

I am excited for what is still yet to come within both of our lifetimes. I pray we get to share so many memories like the ones listed above. They bring such great happiness and joy to me. I know that you will be there every step of the way with your support, love, guidance, and encouraging yet sarcastic remarks. You are truly amazing, and I will never be able to thank you enough for all that you have done and still do for me.

I love you always,

Your Little Girl

Cover Image Credit: Megan Sutton

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To The Parent Who Chose Addiction

Thank you for giving me a stronger bond with our family.


When I was younger I resented you, I hated every ounce of you, and I used to question why God would give me a parent like you. Not now. Now I see the beauty and the blessings behind having an addict for a parent. If you're reading this, it isn't meant to hurt you, but rather to thank you.

Thank you for choosing your addiction over me.

Throughout my life, you have always chosen the addiction over my programs, my swim meets or even a simple movie night. You joke about it now or act as if I never questioned if you would wake up the next morning from your pill and alcohol-induced sleep, but I thank you for this. I thank you because I gained a relationship with God. The amount of time I spent praying for you strengthened our relationship in ways I could never explain.

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Thank you for giving me a stronger bond with our family.

The amount of hurt and disappointment our family has gone through has brought us closer together. I have a relationship with Nanny and Pop that would never be as strong as it is today if you had been in the picture from day one. That in itself is a blessing.

Thank you for showing me how to love.

From your absence, I have learned how to love unconditionally. I want you to know that even though you weren't here, I love you most of all. No matter the amount of heartbreak, tears, and pain I've felt, you will always be my greatest love.

Thank you for making me strong.

Thank you for leaving and for showing me how to be independent. From you, I have learned that I do not need anyone else to prove to me that I am worthy of being loved. From you, I have learned that life is always hard, but you shouldn't give into the things that make you feel good for a short while, but should search for the real happiness in life.

Most of all, thank you for showing me how to turn my hurt into motivation.

I have learned that the cycle of addiction is not something that will continue into my life. You have hurt me more than anyone, but through that hurt, I have pushed myself to become the best version of myself.

Thank you for choosing the addiction over me because you've made me stronger, wiser, and loving than I ever could've been before.

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Batter Up

Because someone needed to teach her rotten boyfriend a lesson about how to treat a woman.


I have this memory from when I was younger,

I must have been six, maybe seven? An age

When you can remember, but not quite

Understand. I remember the landline

Ringing sometime in the middle

Of the night in my grandmother's small,

But adequate house. I had been sleeping,

Tucked under a shield of satin covers,

My grandmother next to me, blanketless,

And stiff, on the very edge of the queen mattress

Like she was anticipating some sort of disaster.

It wasn't the phone that pulled me from my sleep,

It was my grandmother's instant jerk, her eyes

Flipping open quicker than a light switch,

The mattress springing back up, adjusting

To the new lightness as she fled the room. My waking

Was soft like a song. Slow and humane.

My eyes adjusting to the dark, my ears absorbing the ringing,

My mind reminding itself that I was at my grandmother's house.

Then, the ringing stopped;

Abrupt, like a disarmed fire alarm.

It was just a drill, I thought.

But, then I heard the mumbling

From behind the door, panicked mumbling.

Rapid, like gunfire. My grandmother's Rs

Rolling down the hallway and under the door crack.

She only spoke Spanish when she was angry.

The call ended, my grandmother returned to the room,

Wrapped me in a blanket, and carried me into the night.

She buckled me into the backseat of her Toyota and said,

We were going to Auntie Mandy's house because someone

Needed to teach her rotten boyfriend a lesson about how to treat

A woman.

When we arrived at the house, we found the front door

Wide open, the house lights spilling out onto the porch.

A truck, I had seen once before, was parked a foot away

From the front door, aggressive. The truck had trampled

Over the dandelions and daisies, which lay wounded

In the front yard. A scene that begged for investigation.

My grandmother told me to stay put in my seat.

I watched as she walked to the back of the car, her normally pretty

Face turned straight, looked masculine. I watched as she pulled

Something wooden out of her trunk, then in her feline walk,

Approached the house. She turned to me, and I saw the

Baseball bat, immense in her female hands.

I slouched in my seat, the window above my head.

I never saw her go into the house.

I don't remember how long I sat,

Until the red and blue lights came.

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