my life in letters
Saturday November 5, 1983
Hi _________, how have you been? Daddy’s been thinking about you every day but a lot of things have been going on here. How is your little brother? What is he doing right now? Have you been good? Daddy’s alright. He’s just trying to get out so he can be with you. You are going to be a big girl one day, do you know that? And I hope you are a pretty girl too. Tell your mama to help you spell the words when you write back. There are a lot of things I want for you and to show you, and I will as soon as I get out. Are you doing pretty good in school? Do the best you can okay. That’s all you can do is your best. Daddy loves to be around you but it seems like I’m never with you; this has got to stop. Do you know what I mean my little one?________ daddy is so glad that he has you and _______ because you are all I’ve got and I want to show you the world. Be good baby. I will write you again ok. Love, your daddy.
This was the first letter I received from my father from Tehachapi State Prison.
There is a chill that spreads slowly through a little girl’s limbs when she gets that first one. And the longer he’s gone, the deeper it sets until at last she fears she might never thaw.
After I read this first letter from my father I folded it back as I had found it, placed it in its envelope and thought, “Oh daddy, please come home. Please daddy, hurry up and come home.”
Hi _________, how have you been? Daddy’s been thinking about you every day but a lot of things have been going on here. How is your little brother? What is he doing right now? Have you been good? Daddy’s alright. He’s just trying to get out so he can be with you. You are going to be a big girl one day, do you know that? And I hope you are a pretty girl too. Tell your mama to help you spell the words when you write back. There are a lot of things I want for you and to show you, and I will as soon as I get out. Are you doing pretty good in school? Do the best you can okay. That’s all you can do is your best. Daddy loves to be around you but it seems like I’m never with you; this has got to stop. Do you know what I mean my little one?________ daddy is so glad that he has you and _______ because you are all I’ve got and I want to show you the world. Be good baby. I will write you again ok. Love, your daddy.
This was the first letter I received from my father from Tehachapi State Prison.
There is a chill that spreads slowly through a little girl’s limbs when she gets that first one. And the longer he’s gone, the deeper it sets until at last she fears she might never thaw.
After I read this first letter from my father I folded it back as I had found it, placed it in its envelope and thought, “Oh daddy, please come home. Please daddy, hurry up and come home.”
posted by A Girl Again at 10:00 AM
15 Comments:
i really don't know what to say. that is the wish for all of us. receiving those letters feels like christmas.
and now that we have reunited i am antsy for that peculiar kind of christmas everyday - all over again.
You know what is interesting about this post.
a. Prison is SO pervasive in our lives but very little of our writing deals with the affect that it has on us.
b. The issues of being seperated and reunited are universal, everyone has lost someone.
c. My, 7 rehab experiences deep, poppi told me last week that our lifes work is dealing with the disruptions that occured in our childhoods. After we do that, we can move on to the next step in development.
And the funny/strange/sad thing is, growing up, I thought I was the only one. No one was talking about it. And come to think of it, even the one cousin I had whose father was locked up, never talked to me because her mother kept her so distant from our family. Maybe to avoid this very conversation.
I am stunned to think that fathers were in prison then at the rate that they are today becuase NO ONE was talking about it.
"our lifes work is dealing with the disruptions that occured in our childhoods. After we do that, we can move on to the next step in development."
This is the work. And it must be done in order to proceed properly.
something amazing is happening between women. something beautiful. something amazingly tender. i read the comments on so many blogs, like this one, and feel the love and the support and the nurturing that we so desperately need and deserve. i say that if the world is ever to know peace it will be because women have made it so.
we are healing ourselves and each other. change is in the air. i know it. i feel it. we want to be healed so that we can move to the next stage; so that we can be participants in our own evolution. and this is the only way: "dealing with the disruptions" and doing the work.
i miss my daddy, too.
Angel, we will find each other, we will find our fathers and come hell or high water we will find peace.
come hell or high water we will find peace.
Girl, lemme tell you. Hell or High water resonates on so many levels, especially because of New Orleans.
Talk about a CHILDHOOD disruptions on a massive scale.
I am so glad I read and posted that asha piece because it brought me to you tpw and to her soledad.
I am heart sick over those babies; all of them looking like me and mine. As if those children did not have enough to worry over. But God knows everything; I know that.
the art of letter writing seems to stay alive because of those incarcerated men, it's amazing to have something tangible to read and re read after all of those years!
Yes, it is great that you held on to those letters and that you have that type of relationship with him. That's beautiful.
Ten minutes before we were scheduled to head out to see him, I opened a box I hadn't touched in years. When I picked this letter out of the pile, opened and read it after all that time, I was transported - at warp speed - back to my mother's living room. It was a true trip.
Gosh, that was so beautiful! Considering that my father is no longer a part of my life, I felt all of those sad emotions.
I'm glad that your father is back with you and that you have found some measure of peace.
My dad has only been in jail for the last three years (I'm 35) but is a deaf mute, so I have letters dating back for years and years. They are so precious to me I keep them locked up in a safe and have now found a use for them on my blog.
Good luck to you!
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