This letter remains from Anonymous, though he did submit his name with the letter. We decided to redact it, as the incident mentioned in the letter may be known to others.
The father of the letter writer was convicted of murdering his wife and the mother of the letter writer. The writer has not communicated with his father for fifteen years, though he wrote numerous letters to him over the years, which he never sent. Recently, he decided to try to seek answers finally. He wrote this letter to his father and sent it after holding on to it for over a year.
Anonymous requested the letter be posted as is. He has not yet received an answer from his father, nor is he sure he will visit him. But he did take that first step towards closure.
The Letter Never Sent :
Dear Dad,
I don't really know how to start this letter. It's been 15 years since we last spoke. Fifteen long years since that horrible day when everything changed. When mom was killed, and you were sent to prison for her murder.
I was only 10 years old at the time. Still, he was just a scared little boy who couldn't understand why his family was being ripped apart. I used to have nightmares for years, visions of Mom's body, the police cars, and you being dragged away in handcuffs. No child should ever have to see something so traumatic. For a long time, I hated you for what you did. You ruined my childhood. You took away my mom. And you left me alone to pick up the shattered pieces of my life.
As I grew up, I funneled all my grief and anger toward you. I blamed you for every hardship I faced while growing up without parents. Going through middle school and high school without you there for guidance was incredibly difficult. When all the other kids had their dads cheering them on at sports games or helping them study for tests, I had no one. How much did that impact me? How insecure and jealous I felt? I used to wish so badly that I could trade places with one of them, even for just a day, to know what it felt like to have a caring father.
The bitterness and resentment festered inside me for years and years. Even as I excelled academically and got accepted into a top university, darkness was always clouding my heart. I refused to visit you in prison or even read any of the letters you sent. As far as I was concerned, you were dead to me. The father I had loved and adored as a young boy was gone, replaced by a cold-blooded killer.
Or at least that's what I convinced myself for over a decade. But as the years have passed, my rage has slowly started to defrost. I've tried hard to hold onto the anger and hatred, but it takes so much energy. I'm tired of carrying around this weight in my chest every minute of every day.
I started seeing a therapist last year to deal with anxiety and depression issues I've struggled with since I was a kid. She's helped me realize that I need to process what happened back then to move forward with my life. I can't change the past, and neither can you. What's done is done. I think I'm finally ready to face you. I have so many questions that I've needed answers to for so long.
What was going through your mind when you killed mom? Why did you do it? Were you out of your mind on drugs? Manic? Suicidal even? Did you plan it, or was it just a horrific spur-of-the-moment thing? God, it kills me even just writing this out. I still can't fathom how the man who used to tuck me in at night and teach me how to throw a curveball could do something so evil.
And why did you have to ruin our family like that? It's been just me all these years, trying desperately to block out the memories of the childhood I lost. I kept this photo of the three of us from when I was 7 or 8. We're at the neighborhood park having a picnic, laughing together without a care in the world. I look at it sometimes and just sob because we used to be so happy. Why did you have to take that away? I've missed you so damn much.
I don't know what happens from here. I want to visit you, talk face to face, and try to make sense of the senseless. I can't promise I'll ever fully forgive you for destroying our family and leaving me alone. But I want to understand what drove you to do such an awful thing. And I hope you've taken these 15 years to truly reflect on how your actions affected me, your only son. Maybe there's still a shred of the father I once knew inside you. I guess I'll find out when I see you.
This isn't easy for me, Dad. Every instinct tells me to crumble up this letter and never look back. But it's time I get some closure before the weight of all this destroys me for good. I hope, at the very least, you can give me some answers and closure. We both owe each other that.
I don't know when I'll come visit you. Part of me wants to see you right away, and part of me is still terrified of confronting all those demons. When I've worked up the courage. But I felt like I needed to reach out now while I was finally ready. Despite how hard I've tried not to for all these years, I miss you, Dad. I miss the dad you used to be. No matter what, a part of me will always love you.
Hopefully, we'll see each other soon.
So many things are still left to say, but this letter will have to do for now.
With a lump in my throat I will say that even if this first step is not reciprocated as you wish, it shows tremendous courage on your part. I wish you the very best in this --YOUR-- life in order to generate more healing for you and a better legacy for those you choose to follow you.
With a lump in my throat I will say that even if this first step is not reciprocated as you wish, it shows tremendous courage on your part. I wish you the very best in this --YOUR-- life in order to generate more healing for you and a better legacy for those you choose to follow you.
oh my.. the horror...so many lives lost, those who will never be born...