To the man who made me a mother,
Happy Father’s Day.
It’s been quite a while since you last spent time with the boys—over a month, in fact. I wonder if today will somehow bridge that gap. After all, this day is meant to honor you as their father.
Yet, the reality is that you’re missing so much, and you’re not engaging as a dad should. This isn’t meant to shame you; rather, it’s a moment to acknowledge your role in their lives, which remains significant, despite everything.
Days like today evoke a sense of sadness about our circumstances. They remind me of how far removed you truly are and how my sons and I cannot fill that void for you. What’s more heartbreaking is that, regardless of your absence, they still yearn for you.
Even after a month apart, they still idolize you. When you canceled your visit last weekend, their little hearts were crushed. They looked up at me with those hopeful hazel eyes and asked, “Oh, is daddy still sick?” I fought back tears as I replied, “Yes, sweet peas, daddy’s still sick. I’m so sorry.”
You didn’t answer the phone when I tried to reach out. You claimed you couldn’t face them to explain why they wouldn’t see you…again. That burden fell on me.
While it hurts to see their excitement when they anticipate your presence, I’m grateful they can still love you that much. Right now, they love you the way I once did. Unconditionally. They love you for simply being you. It’s a love that is both fierce and fragile. You should be the one to nurture it, not shatter it.
I recently stumbled upon a video from two Father’s Days ago. There you were, joyfully chasing the boys around the living room, laughter filling the air. You were sober, healthy, and fully engaged as their daddy. In those moments, we felt like a real family—the kind I dreamt we’d always be.
I don’t know what you were thinking back then, but you were the father our boys deserve on that day. Today, that reality feels like a distant memory.
My heart no longer aches for myself; I’ve found the strength to let you go. But your sons? They haven’t let you go, and they likely never will. You’ll always be their father, no matter what path you choose—whether it leads to self-destruction or to a realization of the impact you have on yourself and your children. However, whether you become their dad is entirely up to you.
I’m grateful that, despite your absence, the boys have strong male figures in their lives, like my father and brothers. Yet, even at such a young age, they feel the void of having a daddy. That emptiness is meant to be filled by you.
Looking at the life you’ve chosen brings me sadness—not only for our sons but for you as well. I’ve come to realize that I feel more heartbroken for you than you seem to feel for yourself. It may take your own heart breaking for you to find the motivation to change.
In the meantime, it’s your sons’ hearts that are breaking. They have a father but not a dad. They turn to me for answers about your absence and why you’re always unwell.
I’m not sure if you’ll ever grasp the significance of your role. Your own father didn’t, and now, you are missing out on your own.
Here’s my promise to you: I will always uphold your importance in our sons’ lives. I will never speak ill of you to them or undermine you in any way. You’re already doing that yourself, and eventually, you may fade from their memories just as you’ve faded from their lives.
Regardless of your awareness or concern, you are their father, and Father’s Day is a day to honor fathers. So, that’s what we will do. The boys and I will pick out a card for you, and whether they give it to you directly or we send it in the mail, they might even draw you a picture. Then we’ll move on, because that’s what little ones do.
But inside, I will carry the weight of loss—not for myself, but for you and our sons.
Despite your choices and the pain they’ve caused, I want to express gratitude. While you may not be present as a dad right now, you bestowed upon me the gift of motherhood. Because of you, I get to be there for every moment that matters.
So today, I celebrate you. Not for the father you’ve been lately, but because you made me their mother. I genuinely hope that one day you wake up, stop missing out, and become more than just their father; I pray you become their dad.
Until then, thank you. Happy Father’s Day.
Summary
This heartfelt letter expresses the complexities of a father’s absence on Father’s Day. The author acknowledges the pain caused by the father’s choices while also recognizing the love their children have for him. Despite the struggles, she remains committed to honoring his role and hopes for a change in the future.