Fathers kid


I remember you holding me in church with your black suit and my white dress.

I remember when you closed the car door too fast and gave me that scar I still have on my knee.

I remember dumping your case of beer down a hole in our porch because I wanted to help you so bad.

I remember your belt.

I remember you drank milk and orange juice, your favorite orange slice candy and that you liked caramel apples.

I remember you liked skipping rocks.

I remember climbing on the counter in yours and moms bathroom and finding needles above the vanity.

I remember waking up from a nap and finding a sherif on the porch talking to mom and that her head was leaning on a friends shoulder.

I remember wondering what was wrong.

I remember sneaking downstairs and finding my last letter from you in moms file cabinet and reading it over and over late at night.

I remember crying myself to sleep more than not.

I remember wondering what you’d say to me now if you had the chance.

I remember the stories that helped me piece together your life and death.

I remember the nick names they said you called me.

I remember visiting your grave and weeping over the stone that says “our love goes with you”.

I remember when that letter disappeared for 15 years and came back to me and how I wept over your words again as a grown woman.

I remember when a therapist told me you’re the only man I’ve ever emotionally connected with explaining why I always miss you so much.

I remember wondering if you’d be proud even through the mess I’ve made.

I remember wondering if you could have protected me.

I remember the first time I realized you’re with my little girl and how happy that made me. I hope you call her your princess too and know I named her after your mom who I also miss dearly.

I remember the first time I read a piece of poetry you wrote for your sister and how much I treasured those beautiful words.

I remember the first time I saw a video of you and heard your voice. how much I cried and cried and loved that you were telling mom
how much I loved dogs even as a baby.

I remember turning six and you being gone.

All my love,


21 thoughts on “Fathers kid

  1. I have been following you online for a while. Your images are so beautiful. Mostly I liked to look at shiny things because it made me forget about my abusive marriage and how much I hate my husband.
    I’m so sorry about your dad. I’m sorry that you loved someone who didn’t love himself. I worry about my five year old son who told me that people aren’t all good or all bad — they are something inbetween. I’m sorry that his dad taught him that. And your post reminded me that he loves his dad even though he sucks and can be cruel. And I don’t know what to do about that… About a man who my son loves but doesn’t deserve to be in his life sometimes.

    Thanks for your brave, strong post. Even though I don’t know you, you touched my life tonight. So thanks.

  2. Thank you for sharing. My dad just died 2 months and this is my first Father’s Day with him gone. He killed himself with alcohol and I only have compassion now. I only wish I had it when he was alive. Your story really touched me.

  3. the pain in these memories breaks my heart. but this is beautiful. every one of us makes a mess of everything but few summon as much grit, tenacity, and grace as you do to find and create beauty in everything. xo,

  4. Vulnerability like this opens up an eloquence that turns ordinary people into poets. As a writer, I don’t see it very often, but when I do it moves me to awe.

    You did it. Thanks for your bravery. eshet chayil.

  5. Sweet Bek. Your words are so beautiful. You are an amazing woman with such deep compassion for others. You love selflessly & I’m so encouraged by your heart. I love you

  6. I realized I was holding my breath and my eyes were filling with tears when I came to the end. Thank you for sharing. The way you expressed yourself was incredibly beautiful.

  7. So sorry for your loss, but, forever in your heart. Time heals all wounds, not to forget, but, to forgive and recall all the sweet memories. No one is perfect! Take care sweet lady!

  8. Thank you for sharing part of your story. It takes courage to open up and I think so many people can relate. How beautiful your words are. I lost my father when I was twelve and I miss him immensely, even now. Your story is powerful!

  9. This touched my heart. I just found your site via Instagram via someone of someone. I don’t know your story but I do know that this hits too close to home. I was 5 too. I am now a single mother with two boys who drive me mad but I love more than life and I look forward to diving a bit deeper into your life and hopefully finding some hope and strength in there. Thank you for being so honest. I forget sometimes that I’m not the only girl who lost her daddy too soon.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s