Tonight, I was sorting through some old writing of mine, and I came across a poem that my dad wrote to me when I was 15, called “Lapsing Years.”
At that time, he and I were constantly at each other’s throats. More often than not, the words we said to each other were laced with anger, and on my part, sometimes hate. Rarely did I say “I love you.” I was so angry at the world and everyone in it, and there were parts of me that wanted to wound him — to make him feel the pain I was feeling and couldn’t express.
Despite all the crap I put my parents through, especially my dad, they loved me, even when they probably shouldn’t have. When I read what my dad wrote to me, I can feel the love hidden within his words — the love that never wavered.
As I sit here tonight, thinking about those turbulent teenage years, I’m more thankful than ever that they never gave up on me. They held me up and kept me going when I didn’t want to — when I wanted to curl up in a ball and let the darkness consume me. Had they not done that, I wouldn’t be here today.
I’m also thankful that my dad gave me the same love that he has for the written word. He’s one of the most talented writers I know, and I hope that I turn out as half as good at him. The one thing I wish is that he would share his writing with others, so they could experience what I already know.
In closing, here’s a special message for my mom and dad:
Mom and dad, if you read this, please know that I am grateful for everything that you have given me since you brought me into this world. You’ve sacrificed so much, and I feel like I’ve given so little in return. I’ve been difficult to deal with, and we don’t always see eye to eye. I know the past couple of years have been especially trying for me, and for you both, as well, but you’ve stuck by me, yet again, and have seen me through the rough times. Thank you and I love you both! ~Nikki