Family, Ghosting and the Art of Folding ‘Em

Hey kid,

Figured it was about time I checked in again. I don’t say much up here, old habits die hard, apparently. But I’ve been watching. And thinking. There’s a lot of quiet in the afterlife. Gives a man time to reflect on the things he said, the things he didn’t and the things he should’ve.

And if I’m honest, I left a lot unsaid.

See, back when I was walking around down there, I bought into that nonsense about men keeping their feelings locked up like it was some badge of honor. Like silence was strength. Truth is, it’s not. Silence is a weight. It’s a wall you build when you’re scared to be known. And looking back, I wish I’d knocked that wall down a little sooner.

So here’s something you need to hear – from me, even if it’s late.

You’re doing alright. Better than alright, actually. You’re carrying things I never realized would land on your shoulders. Cleaning up messes you didn’t make. Speaking truths most people don’t want to hear. And somehow, you’re still finding a way to laugh about it, even when you’ve got every right to be furious.

That’s strength. Not the chest-puffing, loud kind. The quiet kind. The kind you get from deciding to show up, even when nobody claps for you. The kind I wish I’d known how to have when I was your age.

And let me tell you something else. Don’t waste too much time chasing people who don’t have the decency to answer your calls or show up when it matters. I don’t care if they share your blood or your last name. Family isn’t just who you’re born to. It’s who shows up. Find your people. Love them hard. The rest can pound sand.

Alright, enough mushy stuff. I’ve gotta go. Poker night’s about to start and your Uncle Tom has been trying to pull a fast one with marked cards. I intend to clean him out tonight.

Proud of you, kid. Always was.

Dad