What if you could read the perfect apology letter you wished your dad had written?
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Dear son,
I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness.
Honestly, I’m not even sure I deserve for you to reach the bottom of this letter. Lately, I have been trying to convince myself that everything is okay and that this is just life taking its course. I can’t tell you how hard it is to wake up every morning, look in the mirror and just cry. I keep thinking the mirror is broken but it’s just me. I’m the broken one. I’ve even tried to talk to talk to the man inside that mirror but it’s useless; the words don’t even sound like they belong to me. Every false sense of encouragement I try to feed myself shatters me into a million pieces on the bathroom floor.
Every false sense of encouragement I try to feed myself shatters me into a million pieces on the bathroom floor.
I would be lying if I said this wasn’t an attempt for sympathy. Although yours is the last I expect to gain, it is arguably the most important. I have been a coward and I ran when I should have stayed. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about what I left behind. I remember those Sunday mornings spent in the front yard. Your mother usually with a pair of gardening gloves on, holding weeds tangled at the roots with dirt; the dog running around us as we toss the football across the lawn. And your sisters usually watching and laughing when one of us goes tumbling down the hill after the ball. When I think about what I walked away from I see my beloved four children and their caring mother, a perfect family growing closely together without me.
I remember those Sunday mornings spent in the front yard—your mother usually with a pair of gardening gloves on, holding weeds tangled at the roots with dirt; the dog running around us as we toss the football across the lawn. And your sisters usually watching and laughing when one of us goes tumbling down the hill after the ball. When I think about what I walked away from I see my beloved four children and their caring mother, a perfect family growing closely together without me.
I’m sorry that I ruined our family. I’m sorry that I sabotaged Christmas the last two years and left you all with more tears than gifts. I’m sorry for belittling your mother’s every word at the dinner table. I remember you never spoke and realize how uncomfortable that probably made you. I’m sorry for forgetting your brother’s birthday until the end of the night; I know that hurt you a lot.
I’m sorry for always trying to win you guys over with money as if it’ll fix everything. I know I can seem pretty shallow but I thought I was doing the right thing. I’m sorry for calling the cops on your sister the night before your biggest collegiate track meet. And I’m sorry for putting so much pressure on you about track; I’ll admit I did live through your success at times. I wasn’t there for you as a loving father as much as I was a relentless coach.
And I’m sorry for saying sorry so much; I know “sorry”doesn’t heal any of the wounds I’ve inflicted.
I am most of all sorry for telling you things a father should never tell his son.
I am guilty of crossing boundaries that in turn have devastated our father-son relationship. I shouldn’t have told you about any mistress I had. I shouldn’t have told you about why I wanted to leave your mom, as if that justified anything. I shouldn’t have told you I proposed to another lady minutes before a track meet as if it wouldn’t affect your performance. I shouldn’t have told you what I thought of your mom or used those words all those days we worked together. That was inappropriate of me.
But when I heard you had your mother’s maiden name tattooed across your chest I really understood where I went wrong. I should never have gotten my new fiancé’s name, Jaclyn, tattooed across mine. I didn’t realize how much knowledge you have been keeping from your mom in order to protect her. And I’m sure the tattoo along your ribs has a deeper meaning than I ever thought. I’m sure it feels like I stuck a knife in your rib cage and told you to hang onto it. I wish I could heal the wound that I’ve created but that is in God’s hands.
Look, son, as your coach I will always encourage you to keep pushing yourself and to never stop. I didn’t mean to be forceful with your track career nor did I ever mean to “live through you.” But I’ve told you my story time and time again how my opportunity to compete at one of my biggest high school track meets was tarnished. I lost a big chance to be looked at by colleges because of a simple mistake on my coach’s part.
I only wanted the best for you and as your coach I vowed to never let this happen to any athlete I ever coached, you especially. But in doing so I have realized that I made a few mistakes as a father, and I’ve lost a big chance as a parent.
I remember when I saw you get on the track for the first time and watched you mess around near the pole vault mats. I saw the striking ambition in a little boy that I felt could be a great athlete. As you grew older I could feel the passion in your words when you spoke about track as if the desire to persevere in this sport was coursing through your veins just like it is mine; I guess it runs in our blood. I apologize for the times that I took it too far and you broke down and lacked the support you deserved as a father.
I can’t take back my wrongs and God knows I would if I could. The damage is done and Iknow I have screwed up everyone’s head, yours most of all. I pay the price every morning when I look in the mirror because I am not happy with the guy that I see. I am not ready to die tomorrow; I would feel utterly incomplete. I am guilty of planting the seed of burden in your thoughts and allowing it to grow not realizing what it has been doing to your poor soul. I am truly sorry. I hope these words reach you.
Please forgive me,
Dad
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Photo: liz west/Flickr
There such be a letter of apology from parents who constantly shut down the lines of communications with their kids and don’t allow their kids to have a full range of emotions and treat them as people with equal rights.