Dear Daddy,

I've been thinking a lot about you lately. I know... it's been 15 years since we last talked. I have grown in this interim; I think you'd be so proud of me.

I wish I could call you and share all that you've missed. More than anything I want to say I've missed you. I long to share my life with you and enjoy your last sweet years. Maybe you mellowed, but I feel sure you would love your grandchildren and great-grandson. You would be pleased to know that another great-grandchild is on the way! My children have all settled into such beautiful lives. They all have college degrees and have found themselves in the place where they were meant to be. Each has chosen a different path, albeit making an incredible difference that is far-reaching to many. I so wish that included you.

Fifteen years ago I planned to celebrate your 74th birthday but could never have imagined the magnitude that day would hold; no planning could have ended in such a riveting way. It was a day I will always remember. How could I forget?

You chose me to be there when you breathed your last. I wanted you to know that I still wished for a relationship despite how you never protected me, never showed me love and never reached out to save me from the monster you married. You finally knew who you failed to protect me from. Your unsuccessful attempt at an apology was your last utterance- "Things happen so fast." But they didn't. I have spent the last 15 years putting back together the pieces of me.

For 15 long years, I have been busy fighting a battle I never won. How could I? Donning my shield and chain-mail garments, I swung my medieval flail to protect the little I had left from the previous battles with my enemy- my mother. Yes, the woman you chose to be your wife and the mother of your children. As she slaughtered my hope and stranged my soul, you vacillated between watching and condoning, aka participating. Daily, as I stood at the front line fighting her off, I kept the pain of your loss at bay. Now you are at the forefront of my mind. You are a door I cannot close.

I wanted to grieve. I tried to intellectualize that since you were never my protector and hero, a one-night cry sufficed. But now the grief has filed in like an army marching to fight my tired soul. Along with the pain and tears aplenty, I lost my footing and fell. I fell hard.

You have come back for me. I wasn't expecting you, and I wasn't ready. I don't know heaven, but I do believe in fate. You are the last of my healing, and I cannot push you away. But one thing is for sure; your absence made me strong. I want you to know that I will be okay."
Your daughter, Dana

But here comes the happy ending...

Nightly I hold a celebration. At dusk the show begins; summertime boasts its best as we bear witness to a sweet treat...fireflies that light the night. Like my life there is no rhyme or reason to the flickering; in gratitude I allow it to soothe my soul. It lights my path so I don't stumble when fear leaves debris in its wake. It shines brightly when I succeed, and roars to a raging bonfire when my core is not centered. Even when it is just a spark I know I'm never alone. Just like the fireflies, I have a flame.

You do too.