“Happy New Year. I’m feeling compelled to tell you this and unfortunately don’t have the courage to do it over the phone.
I’m sorry for how cold I am when I come visit. I’m sorry for every cruel word I’ve ever said to you. I’m sorry for how many times I have completely broken your heart.
I’m sorry that for twenty-something years I’ve withheld the love that you want so badly from me. That withholding is making me ugly.
I’m sorry for being so angry with you over circumstances that were probably crushing you even more than they were crushing me.
I’m sorry I have such an aversion to certain things you devote yourself to. I need you to know I have my own relationship to those things and it’s a story separate from yours and mine.
I’m sorry for rebelling against nearly every dogma you raised me to believe. I promise there are a few of them I decided to keep, and they are the guiding principles of my life.
I’m sorry your life has been so hard. I’m sorry you don’t feel like you can tell me everything.
I’m sorry our relationship has been so hard. I’m sorry you don’t feel like you can tell me everything.
I’m sorry for all the hours you’ve cried until your head split because you just wish it wasn’t like this. I have clocked those same hours and we are carrying the load together.
I’m sorry for the times I’ve said whatever was needed to make you feel as small as possible. . Every time I do it, it kills me too.
All of the above are manifestations of all the big and small ways that I am still hurting.
Sadly this may come as a shock to you, but
I want you to know that when I’m alone at night, or driving down the road, or a Rod Stewart song comes on, that I get pulled under some kind of current in which I cry and cry and cry because I love you so much.
I want you to know that I am in awe of you – that just half of what I’ve seen you endure in my short life (which is a fraction of your story) would probably chew me up and spit me out, grind me into a paste.
I want you to know that you did a good job.
I want you to know that sometimes, despite everything, I’d kill to be in your arms. That in my most terrified, hopeless, crumbling moments I have wanted you more than anything else.
I want you to know that sometimes I see a mother and a child playing at the park and I become choked up with a loosening and tightening sensation all at once.
I want you to know that my own encounters with “God” have so-often centered you.
I want (need) you to know that I love you more than anything, that embedded in the core of my being is something beating like a second heart solely for you.
I want you to know that I am starting to understand this: love is an infinite resource and it’s our job to alchemize it into something that can be felt. This message is my first attempt.”