The Best Third: A Letter to my Dead Father

Dear Dad,

It’s been ten years since we said goodbye. Nearly a third of my life without your laughter, hugs, patience and guidance. And it’s really such a shame, because this last third has been the best one.

I’m so sorry you missed the best third, because you don’t know the person I am today. The last version of me you knew — 18, selfish, reckless and green — doesn’t exist anymore. I became unwaveringly focused on my future, learning how powerful it is to pursue something with passion. I discovered the importance of traveling, staying in touch with current events and surrounding myself with positive people who stimulate my mind. I finally grew up, erasing the girl I was when we said goodbye.

I’m disappointed you missed the best third, because I never got to be your daughter and your friend. We used to struggle to relate in nearly every way, but I am able to see many things through your eyes now. I smile when I find something that would make us both laugh, often something that would have been previously lost on me. I curse when I wish I could call you for advice about work, as I’m navigating the same industry you spent most of your career. I ache when I think about how proud you’d be if you could see what I’ve accomplished and listen to my ideas about where I want to go next.

I hate that you missed the best third, because I didn’t have enough time to understand everything you did for me. Thank you for making sure I had endless opportunities, limiting many aspects of your life to make room for my own. Thank you for encouraging me to question what I didn’t understand, igniting the fire in my voice I’ve come to rely on as an adult. Thank you for telling me the value of my worth, distinguishing what I deserve and what I can take from this world. Because you did, I will never settle for less.

But above all else, thank you for loving me enough to leave behind a void in my heart.

Although it’s unfair that you missed the best third, I have come to find comfort in your absence becoming a meaningful part of who I am. It fuels the strength inside of me that keeps me looking forward. It makes me more gracious, understanding and compassionate towards others. It serves as the voice of reason when I’m faced with challenging decisions. It’s something I choose to carry with me, because you left me behind with something worth keeping. I know not everyone can be so lucky.

Miss you every day,

Your Sweet Pea