To my daddy

To my daddy:

I love you, I always will. You are my father, through the pain, our walk, our journey, you have led me much of the way. I've never given the credit you are due. You, nearly single handed, molded me into the woman I have become. I am no longer that little hesitant girl, that you eagerly welcomed into your home, overwhelmed with feelings of fear, confused about who I am, why it seemed I couldn't hold on to the ones I loved, leaving me feeling unloved, like the world was out to out to devour me. I am strong, passionate, determined... I am charge of my life. I no longer allow the world to dictate my path and destination. I owe to you these attributes, many in a positive perspective, some to the pain we've endured. Because you never allowed me to cry and wallow in the pity of circumstances beyond my control, you've enabled me to curb the harsh words of the world, you've instilled the importance of success and undying determination deep within my core. No matter how daunting the trail may seem, no matter how overgrown the cobblestone may appear, I can persevere and will triumph all obstacles in my way. However, the life of drugs and instability still inflicts my esteem, leaving me vulnerable to coy words, to promises of love and acceptance. Because we grew up in competition with the demons of addiction in your life, I question the intent of those claiming undying commitment. I'm coming to wonder if those rationalities will ever cease to dictate my restraints on commitment. I concede to the mentality, "maybe I'm just a broken person.".

I asked you many years ago, what ruined the happiness in your life... Do you remember this conversation? It was shortly after Jeffrey had moved in with me. I was so concerned about him. He seemed to be going down the wrong path... Your path. I would look at him and immediately felt like I was seeing you as a teenager, he had your body stance, your gestures, your attitude. He needed a positive male influence and he had no one came to you. You were in the garage on Armstrong, remnants of pot recently smoked lingered in the air.

Do you remember? This was during a time that your addictions distorted you, disfigured my daddy, the last person I had invested the only trust remaining after all my other bonds of trust had been shredded, smashed, devastated by the corruption in the lives of others. Do you remember your answer to my question?

"What destroyed all hopes of happiness in your life? When did you realize that you weren't meant to be happy?"

"To be honest Jamie, it was when I found out your mother was pregnant with you."

I do remember. Ten years later it still breaks my heart, ten years later I still hear the exhaustion in your voice, your contempt with the cards you were dealt. You never chose to fold, you never tapped out of that life, opting to follow the tide of self destruction. I don't think you meant those words... I hope you didn't mean those words... They still remind me, even in the hope of falsity, that I have never been loved unconditionally.

You were such an inspiring mentor during my soul searching teen years. I cherish our conversations on mathematics, the nature of science, religious theories, and selective mating. I'm still a proponent of Darwinism! No one in my life now knows the dad that I grew up with... So educated and focused on aspiring to live a good life, focused on providing a respectable life for his children. The drugs were still there, they never left, but they didn't dictate our world, our dysfunctional unity.

During one of these life lessons, we talked about breaking cycles of abuse. It is because of that powerful message, that message that screams, "IT STOPS HERE!!!", that I am writing today. It wasn't until recently that I realized how that message applied towards my life. You never abused us, even with your stern, seemingly military style, you always ensured we felt love too. I realized when Tina died that our charming, yet not quite average family was far more out of control than any of us had realized. For years I've ignored the substance abuse you two shared. I wanted to protect my children from seeing their mamaw and pawpaw as I had on so many occasions. There were several instances where I would consult Jeffrey to determine whether or not we should come for a visit. With Tina's death, I had the shocking epiphany that I had failed her as I had failed my own mother. Again, I let down the most important woman in my life, by not being strong enough to say that enough is enough, this is wrong, the cycle ends here and helping her fight these demons. I know I am failing you. I am overwhelmed with the fear that this will also be your fate. I am not strong enough to relieve your burdens. I am not strong enough to climb that mountain with you, beside you. I am not strong enough to stand outside a cold empty house, knowing your last breath had escaped your body, never able to get one more hug from you, those hugs that always shut the world out. I am not strong enough to protect my brothers and sisters from the cycle. I can't stop the cycle for anyone but myself.

I am breaking the cycle of addiction in my life. It is because I can now see that you can not leave that life behind, that I am forcing myself to leave my connections, all my ties to that life, in my past. I'm not pleading with you to chose me over the addiction, I know that mountain looms angrily over you, reminding you that this challenge is one that requires work that your bruised, battered body may not be able to conquer. The air, thick with fear and unresolved pain will never cease to invade your senses; confusing reality with the substance that offers a small ray of light, if even for just a moment in time. It is with a heavy heart, that I've come to this decision. Driving to work today, I said to myself,"Today's a beautiful day, I have so much to be grateful for and have so many wonderful, inspirational people in my life. I wouldn't trade one moment for anything in the world. This my time and it's amazing!"

I am finally coming to a point of equilibrium in my life. I am focused. I will graduate IU Kokomo in May of 2011 with a B.A. in Communication Arts and New Media Communication with a minor in English Writing. I am currently working as an intern with the IU professional journal, From The Well House: A Review of Literary Works, as a Communication Officer and Public Relations Officer. I will continue with this organization until I graduate. I am on track, finally. It is a relief for me to see the finish line. I will be successful. One day you'll pull a sample of my work off the bookshelf. This is MY day! I hope that I can make you proud. For years, I've never felt adequate in your eyes... It was like I was the black sheep of the family. You bonded with your like minded son, in the realm of drugs and there was no place for me in that world.

I love you, always. I just can't in clear conscience, stand idly by while the next generation succumbs to this world of addiction and I can't betray you either. It's best I walk away.

I'm sorry. I have faith that our paths are joined and will connect again. Until then please forgive me and please, please... I beg you, please save yourself. I know its not too late; it can't be too late.

Love your daughter,


Jamie