With All My Love

Dear Dad,
This letter is so hard for me to write. I don't even know where to begin. My hands are shaking, and I honestly don't know if I'll be able to find the words to say what I want to say.

This time last year, I watched your life spiral downward, and I was so scared for you. I was in denial that it was even happening, even though I would find the empty coke baggies all over the house. Subtlety was never your strong point. But I was stunned silent.

Until January 2nd. January 2nd, when I realized you were having a stroke, a part of me died inside. I felt so guilty, as if it was my fault for not telling you to stop sooner. Seeing you lying in the hospital bed crying, slurring the words "Amy, I'm so scared", tore me up inside. The fact that you don't remember anything from that night, or that week for that matter, haunts me.

Since that night, my life has never been the same. Watching you slowly learn to speak and walk again hurt me so badly. To see my once strong father having to have his diaper changed at the age of 50.....there are no words to describe it.

As you got sick, I was taking care of all the animals, the house, making sure the car got moved, the bills got paid, Holly was taken care of.....taking on as much responsibility as I did all at once almost broke me. I can't even begin to tell you how many times I contemplated suicide during your hospitalization. But I knew I had to be there for you.

A year later, a part of me is dead inside. The innocent little girl that looked up to her Daddy is gone. I still love you. So much. That will never change, and please don't think I hate you for that. Everybody has to grow up at some point. But I have begun to take on a new role in your life. I've taken on the role of your mother. The kind of mother who is always snooping, and checking in on her son to make sure he stays out of mischief. The nagging, bitter mother who doesn't know how to relax. I'm constantly paranoid about leaving your side, and what may possibly happen if I do.

But you're slowly but surely showing me that I might be able to step back a little bit and let you take care of yourself. A year clean and sober, and I've never been more proud of you in my entire life. I love you more than life itself, Dad. Your determination to get better, and the fact that you're speaking, walking, and driving normally is amazing to me. I was contemplating throwing you a party in celebration of your sobriety, but I'm not sure if you'd be too happy about me drawing attention to the fact that you had a problem to begin with. I just want you to realize how proud I am of you. Please take care of yourself, and know that you'll always have me.

With all my love,

Amy