Dear Dad-

When I saw that today I had to write to someone that I want to give a second chance to, I immediately knew that I wanted to write to you. It was one of the only "no-brainer" moments I have had since I took up this project. We didn't speak for about five years, by my choice, and we have only recently come into contact again. We still haven't seen each other and you've never had the privilege of meeting my kids or my husband.

I won't say that I am not angry with you because I still am. I don't know if I ever won't be angry with you for the past. You still haven't ever really apologized for some of the things that bother me and I know you probably never will because I don't think that you think you have done anything wrong. I get that. I understand it because I firmly think that you did, even now over seven years after we had that last fight.

If we are being honest, I don't think that you were a very good dad. I don't think that you knew how to be one and I think that your priorities were in the wrong order. I think that they still are. But since we are being honest, I am over it. I don't need you to be the daddy that I always dreamed of. I am twenty-five now. I have my own children and I have my own family. I have a life that I love. I am ready to give you a second chance because I am past the point of wanting and needing you to assume a role that you can't assume.

I think that we can be friends and I miss you. I miss your puffy, white hair and your really corny jokes. I miss the way that your eyes crinkle up at the corners when you smile, laugh, or concentrate really hard. I miss your voice and the way you speak. I miss being around you and pretending I actually care enough to dislike Notre Dame just because you like them.

The fact is that you are my father and I love you. I think that there's still a chance for us. I really regret the fact that I live over a thousand miles away from you because I think that if I lived closer we would do a lot of hanging out. I think that you and David would get along really well and I know that you'd like my kids. I am not usually the best with forgiveness and it did take me five years to decide to entertain the notion of forgiving you, but I am finally there. I am finally (mostly) over it. I am finally ready to give it a shot.

I get it now and I still love you. I forgive you, in spite of everything, I really do.

Love,
Molly