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                                A LETTER TO MY DAD

 

Written By: Lauren Havess

 

                              

            Dad:  I’m sorry. When I think back to a little girl seated on your knee, I wish I could go back in time and right all I’ve done wrong. I broke the rules society gave us. And looking back now I can see that there never really was a time when I cared about anything more than having a good time – except maybe for the love I had for Joseph Same – but then I never really treated him well either.

            And now I’m already thirty five. And though many might say I’m still young, I don’t feel young anymore. And sure, that’s mostly because of how I’ve lived, thus, it’s no one’s fault but my own. And daddy, I want you to know how fortunate I am just to be still alive. All those illegal drugs and substances, I’ve used all of them – yes, all the way from marijuana to heroin. And I’ve also been a huge abuser of alcohol.

            And I want to tell you dad that I think you did all you could to keep me from turning bad. But I guess it’s hard for young girls to grow up as society feels they should when their mothers aren’t a part of their lives. And I’m not trying to excuse the way I’ve lived by saying this, but I guess that wildness was kind of in my blood wasn’t it? Poor dad, you had two women close to you in your life, and both of them were basically tramps; and that word is letting us off the hook mildly I think.

            And sure, I remember when mom left us to pursue her tendencies for alcohol and men. So, I guess I’m a lot like mom was. And maybe I’ll end up as she did too. I think there are a couple of differences between us however; at least when I have sex with men I’m not cheating on a spouse as she was doing to you, but then mom was only an alcohol consumer, not a drug abuser such as myself.

            And there’s another thing I’d like to say here in all honesty. And by that I mean I’m not saying this to offer it up as an excuse for the way I’ve lived; but God, it irks me terribly even though it’s not something that’s really abusive to my body, or to other people. And it’s that, in my mind, I’ve always been confusion’s and/or disorganizations slave. And when I’ve told this to law enforcement people, or counselors, or various other people over the years, they’ve always looked at me with expressions of befuddlement on their faces. And when I’ve been asked why I believe what I just said, I’ve always answered that (in my life at least) chaotic living leads always to a number of stigmas, but of all of those, self-pity is the worst. And why? Because I believe self-pity leads one directly (and quickly) into jealousy.

            But why would someone like me be jealous? I’ve always had a fair amount of money at my disposal. I’ve wasted a lot of it. And while most women my age now have fami8lies and people close to them who love them and care about them, all I have is a long list of addictions, and a penchant for continually becoming involved with men who either only want my money or my today – and usually both – and only for brief intervals of time. And no, I was never able to find Mr. Right, nor was I ever even able to locate a potential Mr. Right who admittedly may have has some flaws, but whom I perhaps could have remade into what would have been a husband who would have loved me for the rest of our lives.

            And again, let me say “I’m sorry dad.” And it bothers me that I never contacted you for all those years I was gone from home. And I knew you wouldn’t attempt to find me, because you told me as much on the day you asked me to leave.

            And for those who may be reading this, I want to say that dad finally kicked me out to use plain speech. For so many years I’d been living out of control – so to speak. And during my elementary and high school years I was little more than simply a snob. And at that time I made sure I became part of what I’ll term our city’s “north side elitism.” And I suppose my readers may have difficulty understanding this, but despite the fact I was but a young girl then, I really felt I was an integral part of the supposed upper class north side lifestyle. And I felt that way because it seemed to me that a lot of the wealthy people living in our area of the city looked upon me as being the woman of our household, which of course I wasn’t, in fact, I hadn’t even lived beyond my teenage years at that time.

            Nonetheless, there was no other woman in your life dad. Mom had abandoned us, and we never even really found out why. And I’m sure you remember the morning we approached the kitchen table for breakfast and found a note from her there which read: “Mike, I’m sorry to leave you and Lauren, but I can’t carry on here any longer. Life has become too stifling here, and I want to seek new adventures elsewhere – signed Jennifer.

            So, mom left us. And I know her departure left holes in your heart, and in your life. And I* know those holes were never filled back in again. And that was so unfair to you dad. You were a person who did so much for so many. And I know I let you down as well. But please contact me soon. I’ve left my current address and phone number for you. And this time I’m going to try to keep those numbers for a long while, although there really is no reason for me to stay here where I am currently. Yet, then there’s been no reason for me to stay at any of the abodes I’ve had since I left your presence.

            Dad, please forgive me, and give me a second chance. I’ll come home if you want me to. And please remember, it was all completely my fault, although through her actions – mom gave me an excellent blueprint for how to fail as a female in this society.

 

                                                                                                            Lauren

 

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