A Letter to Dad

Nonfiction by Wynne Adriel Logroño Second Place

Goosebumps ran along my arm as I stood in the doorway, watching you being carried to the ambulance. The next time I’d see you would be at your funeral three days later. I had no more tears to cry. I ran my trembling hand along your casket, watching your peaceful face. You looked like you were in a deep sleep. Were you really gone? Nobody told me it would hurt this much. I couldn’t believe I would be fatherless at 20. I stared unseeingly at a distance, thinking about how it would be just my siblings and mom from now on. Why did you have to leave right now? I thought we would still have more time. I still had hope that we would be able to fix our relationship. As they carefully lowered you to your final resting place, your voice rang in my ears. “I can’t take it anymore.” It was your last words to me, but I didn’t say anything back. Now, I choked on all of the words I never got to say to you. My dad – the one who played a big part in my life, maybe the biggest part, had gone just like that. Although you weren’t an ideal father, I loved you dearly. I still do. My childhood memories were golden. It was a time filled with the sounds of my siblings and I playing with you. You told us stories when it was time for bed, and I would plead for just one more. You would brush my hair, and I would complain about how it hurt my head. You would embrace me in your arms, and you were safety, peace, and comfort. Now, I'm left vulnerable and open without a safe place to hide. You were my defender, my champion, my hero. Nothing was impossible when I was riding on your shoulders. I often wonder when it all went wrong. Was it your fault for distancing yourself from us? Was it your illness that was making you that way? Was it my fault for being scared to reach out to you?

As I grew older, we got used to never being quite as close to each other as before. I look at you and think to myself: Can you miss someone, even if they’re right in front of you? It felt like I lost something I don’t remember losing. You drifted away from me so gradually, and I didn’t know when I let your hand slip away from mine. We used to be as thick as thieves, but now we’re strangers living under one roof. All we could see were each other’s faults. Your harsh, distant voice, your furrowed brows, your cold, cold eyes that could make me feel so small. Was it possible to love someone but not like them? Because I didn’t like you. At all. You were bad-tempered, rude, and mean. Growing up, I could frequently hear your complaints about life, about people, about me. There were moments, of course, rare it was, when I thought you came back. When you would cook for us once in a blue moon, when we would laugh together over one of your lame jokes, and you would hug me like you did before. These times used to give me so much hope, but your frown would always come back to chase it away.

Sometimes, I forget that you’re gone. I play, I laugh, and I smile like something in me isn’t broken. But then I see your ghost in the corner of my eye. I want to come closer. I want to walk with you once again. People say, one day, it won’t feel this painful. They don’t understand. What if I want it to hurt? I want to remember you. I’m scared of waking up one day and realizing that I’ve forgotten your voice, the color of your eyes, and the feel of your hand in mine. You don’t have the slightest idea how much I wish I could just see you just one last time. Now that you’ve passed away, I feel my memory of you becoming softer. I want to remember only the good parts of you.

Today marks exactly one year since you’ve passed away. A part of you will always be with me, but I know I can’t let you haunt me forever. I need to free myself from the chains you’ve bound me with. Grief is my companion, and I still need to complete my journey with him. Maybe it’ll never be finished. In the meantime, I need to go and live my life. The sun is still high in the sky, and I have a lot of errands to do. I’ll be missing you always. You may be gone, but your memory lives on in me. I have written your name in my heart. When we meet again, I want to tell you all the things I never got to say. I want to hold your hand in mine again and love without the fear of rejection. Most of all, I want to run into your arms like I once did when I was a child coming home.