When the Time Comes
To my dear son,
These last couple days have been rough, and more importantly, I can’t recall what happened. Before I lose everything, I want to tell you somethings before it’s too late.
I know we haven’t talked in a while. I can’t even remember the argument that started this, but you are my son, and we both have the stubborn bug. I’ll just be the first to say that I’m sorry. I wasn’t the father that you needed, and I wasn’t there when you needed a father.
Your mom worries about you, probably just as much as she worries about me. Your mom worries a lot. Please, whatever you’re doing, at least include her in dialogue so she knows how you are.
Your sisters seems to think I don’t care about you, but I do. You may be the youngest, but you’re my youngest. You’re my boy. I do care what happens to you, even though you may still hate my guts. I don’t want you making the same mistakes I did, but more importantly, I don’t want you to hurt the same ways I did.
When I buried your uncle and brother a couple years ago, it killed me. It was bad enough to lose my only brother, but to lose a son was unimaginable. It’s something that I don’t want even on my worst enemies, and certainly none of my children. There’s a torture that boils inside of you, like hot lava pouring out of a volcano. It never stops. It never cools. You just burn from the heartache of how you couldn’t do anything, of last words that should’ve been more meaningful.
Now that I’m about to lose you, I don’t want to make the same mistakes again.
I love you, son. I always have, and I always will. I know we don’t see eye-to-eye, but you are my son. I put you in diapers, and I watched you grow into a man. I’m proud that you are who you are because you’re better than anything I could be, and I’m glad to have at least watched you do it from the sidelines. I’m so sorry that I couldn’t be better for you, and I hope that in time, you can forgive me of my mistakes. I may not be around for you to accept my apology, but I think I can go in peace knowing that you’re going to be fine on your own.
I love you, son. I love you so much. I miss you, and I love you.