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BESW
BESW
11:43
[P] This room frightens me. https://t.co/M5IPL0VPWX
Tweeted by paulandstorm on June 19, 2016 at 11:39 AM
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12 hours later…
nitsua60
nitsua60
23:43
I'm going to go out on a limb here... earlier you mentioned that your dad's aphasia--verbal, I'm assuming--has made some things really challenging. And it's Father's Day (here now, and there when you were chatting, if I've got time zones correct.) Which got me all... I don't know.
trogdor
trogdor
yeah father's day was yesterday here
nitsua60
nitsua60
So I wrote a letter to my son, which I'd like to share with you. If dads the world across are anything alike perhaps these are the sorts of things he'd be saying to you, if the words would come.
(And, since you're a room owner: if I'm overstepping, you can easily just delete what comes next.)
/* *** begin included message *** */
To my son:

I never forget that it is you who *made* me a father. Before you I was a good man and a good husband. But mommy and I loved you so much that you came to exist--and that's what made us into a mom and a dad, too. Without you I'm not the most important thing that I am.
You were and always will be my first and best teacher-of-parenting. Everything I know I know because we worked through it together. And you taught me sooo much along the way. You taught me to be patient, because you were patient with me when I couldn't understand your needs. You taught me to be joyful, because no matter what you were delighted to be around me and mom.
And you taught me to truly love, because no matter what mistakes I made, no matter when I grew frustrated or yelled, no matter when I was present-but-not-present, you loved me unconditionally. (And all love is unconditional.)
In return I tried to teach you to be compassionate, curious, and courageous. (Our "three Cs", right?) I tried to give you everything you needed--but not one bit more. I tried to make you feel safe but also to make you feel like you had to work for things. And to make sure you saw the fruits of that work, because it's important to learn how to work for things.
(And sometimes I tried to surprise and treat you, because we should never forget that sometimes gifts just come along, and we can simply be grateful for them.)
I took care of you when you were sick, cuddled with you when you were sad, watched nervously from the window as you went riding off on your own. I worried about you until I was sick to my stomach and tried never to let it show.
I never asked for anything in return, but I did receive so much: your companionship, your kindness, your love.
I hoped to set you on a path to happiness and fulfillment, toward a life of gratitude and delight, where you would be confident and competent and courageous to face anything you chose to tackle.
Now I find myself needing you as you did me. I see you worrying about me the way I did for you. I lean on your strength as my own slips away from me. And I'm torn in a dozen different directions every moment you care for me. I'm so sorry that you have to step back from your own life to spend time caring for me. And I'm so proud of you for never letting a hind of annoyance or frustration show with me. I'm grateful--ever so grateful--that you stand by me at these times.
I feel like I'm failing you every moment I need your help, yet that every moment you give it is a testament to what an astounding young man you are.
Mostly, though, I am sorry I can't say these things to you. I know you are a man of faith and understanding and compassion, that you know in your truest heart all these things. But that doesn't lessen the longing we all hold: for our father to hold us close, wrap us in his embrace, and whisper into our ear "I love you and I am proud of you."

I love you, and I am proud of you.
/* *** end included message *** */

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