An Open Letter To My Dad.

Someday, I know you will sit down and read this. You will read my whole blog from start to finish and discover and relive this turmoil journey we, as a family, have been subject to, but until this time this post will sit unread by you. It is dedicated to you but is also created for other dads in your position. As unfortunately, there are too many families in similar situations.

Daddy, how are you?

The rule maker of the family, the breadwinner, the man of the house and the silent sufferer. How are you, Daddy? Are you sitting in the rain again?

Daddy, you created two free children, a boy and a girl who knew you as our protector but also our teacher. We were free to discover the world, try new things and want for nothing because of you. The downfall comes from our want to never disappoint you and in hindsight, I don’t think Zachary ever did. What is a household without no rules, with no system and no aspirations? We have been pushed, through school, through training, and through life by you. With you by our side, at our sports day, presentations, graduations, you have been there.

Daddy, you did good. You accept Zachary and me for who we are as people, you give us your motivational talks about your childhood and how it is completely different to ours as a method of inspiration. I remember Zachary telling me, Daddy is the only person who scares me, but the only person I feel protected and safe with and this is true. Your overwhelming love for us to succeed and your dreams of what we could be and who we could be as people have been clear for as long as I can remember.

I know you lost your brother Daddy, I now know how you feel.

No matter what anyone says, or how much pain Zachary is no longer in, you have still lost your son. You and Mummy both lost their son. And we miss him. It’s ok to miss him.

Some people look at you from the outside and think that you are dealing well daddy, but they don’t see you the way I do. You don’t have to be strong all the time, after all, it’s ok not to be ok. It’s ok to have bad days daddy, regret words said and actions taken in the past, to wish you could do the past over again and again. Mummy and I feel the same way too, we hurt when you hurt and we cry when you cry. It’s ok to keep busy, what you can do and make with your hands is amazing, as an artist and a paintbrush, exactly the same as Zachary. His creative flair, what set him apart from the rest, what gave him his dreams came from you.

To watch my Mum, on her worst days, unable to help because you are suffering too, to listen to me cry over frustration and anger that I feel like I am failing, you are brilliant at providing hope. To go out to work, walk out that door and sit alone in the van, you are brilliant at doing what you do. To looking after my mum, taking her out and making her smile, you are brilliant with her. To taking your classes and teaching us, you are brilliant at what you do. To making Zachary’s memory live on and providing me with the resources to make my ideas real, you are brilliant at what you know.

Daddy, this is not your fault, you did not fail. You have done and are doing the most amazing thing in the world, being the best father I could hope and dream of and Zachary felt the same.

Daddy, you are the strongest man I know.

To all the silent suffers, the dad’s in the world, you all are doing great.

I love you,

YaYa xx