Dad chimes in..

Message from Dad (from beyond the veil)…

Hey kid… it’s me.

Yeah, I know – it’s usually your Granny running the show. She’s still up here giving out orders like she’s got her own cloud with a ‘Reserved for Granny Frass’ sign on it. But I figured it was about time I stepped forward. Just you and me for a minute.

First off, I need you to know – I see you. I always did. Even when I was quiet, even when my head wasn’t right, even when life got noisy and messy and complicated. You were the light in the room, and whether I said it out loud or not, you mattered more to me than you knew.

Now, about that mess I left behind… yeah. I owe you an apology for that. The family drama, the confusion, the things left unsaid, the weird, tangled-up relationships. It wasn’t fair to drop all that on you, and I hate that you’ve had to shoulder more than your share of it.

Truth is, my mind had started slipping long before anyone figured it out. I didn’t even notice it at first – just little things here and there. Names, memories, moods shifting for no good reason. I used my deafness as a cover. I was losing my grip while still trying to look like I had both hands on the wheel. Some days I felt like I was walking through fog, pretending I could see the road. Other days, I just couldn’t care. And by the time anyone put a name to it, well… the damage was done. Not just to me, but to the people around me. To you.

I wish I’d had the words – or the guts – to explain it sooner. To tell you I wasn’t angry at you, or the world, or anything specific. I was just lost. And some of that confusion turned into drama I didn’t mean to cause. People took sides, hearts got hurt, and you got caught in the middle more than once. I’m sorry for every bit of that.

If I could go back and untangle it, I would. But from where I’m standing now, I just want you to know you didn’t imagine any of it. You weren’t crazy. You saw what was happening long before others did. You always did. That was your gift – and your curse. And you handled it better than most people ever could have.

Granny’s about to cut me off, says I’m ‘hogging the spirit line.’ So before she rattles her teacups and sends Sir Percival to chase me off, I’ll leave you with this:

You’ve got more strength in you than you realize. You’ve carried a load meant for three people and still manage to laugh like a troublemaker. That’s something. I’m proud of you, kid. Proud of the way you speak your truth, even when it shakes the room.

I’m walking with you – a step behind, like always. And every time that family drama rears its head, just picture me muttering, ‘Ah, here we go again,‘ and making myself a cup of tea on the sidelines.

Love ya. Always did. Always will.

— Dad