I am not quite sure what to call you.

Some people would call you: dad, papa, father, or whatever else they could use to signify or classify you.

I cannot call you those labels.

Growing up with you was difficult, you were never there. You are a workaholic. The job will and always has come before your family.

You are selfish. Whenever you have the extra money, yes, you pay the bills but you spend the rest on yourself and useless things you think you “need.”

I will not discuss the darker side of things; you can just live with those. What you have done, is unforgettable in the worse way.

I had to be a “second mom” at four and a half years old. About 14 years after my first brother, your “son” came along, another younger brother of mine came along. I became a “second mom” again. I had to grow up before my proper time because of you.

I know your background and your history, but why did you have to take it out on me and the rest of our family?

My mom is truly a hero, she helped me and still was and is the best mom I could ever asked for.

She came to our sports games. She supported us. She came to all of our school and non-school activities and events. She was always there to pick us up when we hit our lowest moments. She cried tears of joy at our highest moments.

She was there.

Where were you?

No, I am not, in any form, the way I am because of you.

She and better family members taught me everything I needed to know and how to be the best I possibly can be as an individual. Even better than what I can be.

I never needed you. I still do not need you.

My brothers and I will never need you. We did it and we will continue to do it without you.

Thank you for showing me the people I need to stay away from, never get involved with, and never reflect in their personalities, actions, or words.

My letter to “you.”