To Dad:

The moment has come when I remember you and I can't call you, that day when I will no longer hear your advice, when I miss that imperfect and perfect way of educating, it's my first Father's Day without dad, wow you never think about how much it will affect you to go into stores with gifts without having anyone to buy them for, when you realize that you are an orphan of dad.

In the midst of my pain, I think about how many times I was angry with you, how our differences made us say things to hurt each other, and at the same time I think about all the times I managed to tell you I LOVE YOU, how I began to realize that the strong, determined, and go-getter woman I am is one I inherited from you, that faith and strength were values ​​you possessed. I am more like you than I thought. I only have things to be grateful for because I forgave you for the negative things a long time ago, long before you left. Thanks to that, I was able to be with you during your illness and give you everything, or as little as I could, amidst the pain and grief I began to experience during your illness.

My biggest challenge in therapy was working on my relationship with you, but my psychologist taught me that if we didn't have good childhood memories, we could have good adult memories. It was so revealing and liberating because I focused on being able to have them.

Today I can only say thank you, Dad, because despite your emotional and financial hardships, you did the best you could. You were imperfect, as all human beings are, but I know that what you gave me was all you could give, and when you understand that about your parents, you can live and remember with more love and happiness. I know that one day I will see you again because my faith tells me so. I hope to continue being the strong woman you raised me to be, and that you are proud of me. Today I let you go with this letter, to invite many women who, like me, didn't have the best childhood but who still have time to heal, whether their parents are alive or perhaps no longer alive, but can still write a letter to release and let go of the pain.

My father helped young alcoholics, just as he once was. His life was a testament to that. That's why I write about the pain in my life, because I always think that there are women who might read me and I can help them continue healing, that it's okay to raise your hand to go to therapy, that it's okay not to be perfect mothers. We also have wounds, and in our imperfection, we give the best we can. Our struggle should be to be our best version every day.

Today I invite you to forgive. If you had a bad relationship with your father, the best way to heal is to forgive and let go. I know it sounds easy and it isn't, but I want you to know that it can be done. With work and effort , you can heal, for yourself.

Elsa Gándara

Graphic Designer and Digital Marketer

Follow me on all platforms as @littleappletejidos and @kreandogt