An Open Letter To My Dad: Thank You For Always Trying


You’ve never been a subject of any of my writing because I always end up crying when I write about you.

I always felt like I didn’t know you enough to put you into words. I always felt like you didn’t know me enough for you to deserve my words.

But today, I’ve decided to get off my high horse, pull myself together, and celebrate you.

The past few months have been cruel to me. Because of this, I became cruel too. I started to question who I really am. I was swimming in spirals of anxiety. I was eating doubts for breakfast. I was drinking tears to sleep. My life seemed like an endless tunnel with no light at the end of it.

Or so I thought.

When I tried to look closely and eagerly at the end, I was surprised to see you there. But instead of holding a torch, you were holding a beer. Instead of waiting for me to drag myself to meet you at the end, you met me halfway.

It was the weirdest feeling, ever.

You, of all people, reached out for my hand and assured me that better days are coming. You told me there’s no need to over think and that as of now, we should just drink our worries away. You told me that there’s no use in pleasing “everybody” because “everybody” will never be pleased. You told me that life is a life of mistakes and only the people willing to commit them will win at this game.

You told me that there are things that I can never control, such as how people choose to think and act towards me or about me. So, why worry about these things? Why spend your days frowning because of matters that aren’t supposed to be your problems? Why question your greatness just because of other people’s failure to see your spark?

Your favorite of all was, why are you crying? Over these people who will never get their act right because they don’t want to? Over these mistakes that are supposed to teach you to do better next time? Over this gossip and whispers that trick you into doubting yourself?

You said that the blood that’s rushing through my veins is the blood of people, of a family, that never gave up. You said that one should never lose sleep when she knows she did her best.

I am describing you as the man who’s trying because I know you really are.

Talking and being with me is way out of your comfort zone. We never talk about how our lives are because we’ve been so used to it being difficult. We’ve accepted that you and I are destined to face life’s punches, so that other people won’t have to feel the pain.

Lately, life has been punching me so hard that I can’t feel anything anymore.

But you continue to snap me out of my willingness to let life make me numb. You had your own set of battles but you chose to put your armor down because I needed a gentle hand. You reminded me of who I am and who I can become.

For all you’ve been doing to make sure I make it out alive, thank you. Thank you, for trying to understand my unfinished sentences. Thank you, for making me a part of your busy schedule. Thank you, for accepting that your little girl has changed.

Thank you, for making me feel like the world can’t bring me down because you got my back. Thank you, for proving that I don’t need hundreds of people to believe in me. I just have to believe in myself. And of course, thank you for trying. We aren’t a perfect duo, but, we’re getting there.

I wish that we will never get tired of trying.

So, here’s to more beers. Happy Birthday, Dad.