Psalm 68:5 Father of the fatherless and protector of widows is God in his holy habitation.

Dear Dad

I am writing this letter to you because if I stood before you I don’t think I would be able to speak what I am about to write. I am not even sure what I am about to write. But I am a writer and a poet much like you. I remember you writing acronyms of everyones’ name and writing poems with each letter. I didn’t know writing would be the thing that connects us. You were physically in my life but I never felt your interest in me. I loved when you would carry me up the stairs when I had fallen asleep on the couch. I would sense being picked up and fake sleep so you would remain carrying me. It is my fondest memory of us. I do not remember many conversations with you. Outside of you taking me and my siblings to school. I remember conversations that we had one on one centered on you and mom’s marriage. I remember you saying you didn’t have money when I asked for things. But what I remember most, is the lack of you in places I wish you were.

I wish you knew me. Or at least showed interest in me. beyond rides to school – I have no time in my life I can remember where you sought me. Where you went out of your way for me. I didn’t realize how much I wanted more out of you till I would see myself stare at my cousins’ picture of her and her fathers before going to a daddy and daughter dance. I was jealous. I didn’t know what that was like. Even though your physical presence was there your passivity spoke loudest. By the time high school came I was accustomed to you not caring. I would not have known I adapted to this pattern of thinking until my awards ceremony in high school. We lived in Weston 45 minutes north from school and you always took us home. On the day of my awards ceremony you were picking me up from my cousin’s house. I told you, you can just go straight home dad. Mom is driving down and will be coming to my awards ceremony. And then I close the door and left. I didn’t think I did anything wrong. Didn’t know I had made any offense to you until my aunt came and told me. She told me you were crying to her about not being invited to my awards ceremony. She said you were sad because I told you to head home and I hurt your feelings. I was truly shocked. While others looking on the outside in would think, “why wouldn’t you invite your dad?” The only thought I could think was why would I? You never attended any of my track meets but mom did. You picked me up from school but never asked about my grades, or helped with projects. You never spoke to me outside of any necessity. That day I thought I was giving you a pass to be free. you do not have to bore yourself with loving me. You can do what you want. You cried. But I never knew what it was like to be loved by you.

You would call me to talk about my mom to complain about her. When I told you we can no longer speak about mom, the calls significantly dropped. You stopped calling to talk about mom. Because in truth what else would we talk about. You would promise to visit me in Colorado when I moved but you never came. At first I believed you, but then I just wondered why you kept saying it if you knew you wouldn’t fulfill it. After I said no more calls about mom, you rarely called. you never called on my birthday or for any holiday. I would text you sometimes on fathers day or your birthday. But then I just stopped. I stopped thinking about even-as if it didn’t affect me. As if watching father and daughter relationships in movies didn’t make me weep. I longed for you but it didn’t seem like you did for me. Fathers would seek their daughters, treat them like princesses and be their back bone. I have often wondered how different I would be if you were that kind of presence in my life.

There were 2 times you called me when I was in grad school.The first time, I was shocked because you never called. I was at a friends gathering/ party and stepped in the bathroom to take the call because I was shocked you were calling me. When I answered you said how I was. I could tell you were sad or something. It was a short call. I felt you called because you knew I was the daughter who would comfort you endnote yell at you. The one most likely to welcome you after not hearing from you in years. Then the next time you called. I was in my room. I remember it vividly. you called and asked how I was. I chatted with you, more hopeful this time. And then the reason you really called was revealed. You called to ask for my youngest brother’s phone number. To make matters worse, you didn’t try to converse much after that; solidifying the true reason you called wasn’t for me but to get what you needed. Why was I never someone you need? Why was I not someone you considered? How could you forget about me?

After that I just stopped even hoping. I distanced myself and just allowed the space between us to widen. You would reach out when I was in town sometimes through my uncle. But still no calls or anything. Sometimes I feel a fool. I asked you once at a dinner with you after moving back to Florida. I had asked about you not reaching out or something. you said well the fathers arms are always open. But I said God the Father seeks his kids. You preach about God on pulpits and stages- but do you not see how you haven’t sought us like God seeks. No father is perfect, but why don’t you try?

I do not speak of you much because there is not much to say.Its not because I don’t want to but when I do, it uncovers a grave of pain. It reveals that you don’t care for me. how else to explain the lack of communication for years on end. Or the calls that come only when you need something. When I have spoken of you, or bought up a good memory- my friends say you don’t talk much about your dad. and I would say if I wanted a relationship with my dad, I would have to lead it. I would have to reach out and call each month or so. I would have to check in. And at the time I wasn’t sure I could handle that type of selfless love while I a housed a gaping wound in my chest from you.

But after fasting this year, I felt I needed to forgive you. but to forgive you in a way quite different than I had in the past. How I would cope with you not being a great father to me was by saying you never had a great father. You grew up with a hard life. But even so, many fathers are great fathers in spite of their childhood plights. I also realized by doing this, I didn’t acknowledge the pain you did inflict. whether you know it or not, Your presence matters. A father will make a crater of an impression in a child’s life- whether you are present or not. Thats the power of a Father- the impact is there.

I do not think you know how much your lack of presence in my life has caused me much grief.This year after a fast I realized I haven’t fully forgiven you. I would pray for you and ask God to show me if my heart had. I would do this many times over the years. But one thing I never could imagine is you ever changing or owning up to anything you did wrong. Your lack of acknowledgment of my pain, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. I am writing this because even if I wish for you to acknowledge it , you may never. Yet God still tells me to forgive. And I have been wrestling with that for years. I new if I reached out- iw Ould have ti drive the relationship.

But when I reached out a few months ago, I was hopeful. And you did message me each morning I felt maybe this relationship won’t be like before but something new. We spoke about faith and scripture. But I got triggered when you shared how the Lord had changed your life. I asked and wondered if this change was new. But I realized after you shared that your life was changed by God before you became a father. And I struggled to see how you were changed by God but did not love me- your own daughter. knew you kept texting but I slowed down because I was hurt. this bought up a lot of hurt for me.

I was just home around your birthday. I had said we’d meet. But as the date got closer I did not reach out. But you reached out to me. that surprised me. You had wanted to meet and I gave you a date and time. I told you a place to meet but because you didn’t answer soon- I didn’t want to be disappointed y you not showing up. So I made a backup plan to go to the movies. When you messaged me 35 mins before we were supposed to meet- I should have just met you. but I chickened out and I ran. I went to the movies and I asked to reschedule. I should not have ran dad. But I was hurt and scared; and I couldn’t bear being rejected again.

The whole time I watched the movie, I felt convicted. Not shame or anything, but I knew I had to tell you the truth. Not for the sake of you responding in a specific way, but rather to validate my own hurt. To let you know the truth of the pain you inflicted. I couldn’t move forward in life and in my relationships without that. Truly forgiving you and learning to love you as my father has been the hardest thing I have ever ventured to do. And while painful, I think I will find healing whether you acknowledge those truths or not. I just need to say those words. And after I hope to build something new. I am sorry I hurt you that day by not showing up. I hope we can get another chance at reconciliation. God had shown me – even when you forgot, He never did. He stepped in. He is a Father to the fatherless. And in Isaiah 49:15-16 it says,” Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are continually before me.” While I still have pain, God has taken away its sting. He has been the One to not forget me. He has not forgotten me and that is enough.

I love you dad, I do not always feel this but I know this. And I pray one day, we can reconcile for the glory of Our Heavenly Father!

Sincerely, your daughter Rachelle