My father and I are both in wheelchairs but that is about where our similarities end. We don’t have some terrible genetic disease, just really bad luck. Our relationship has been cold for years. That is until I tried a writing exercise that has created a dialog. Thanks to writing him an email as if he were dead, we’re not exactly skipping around like boarding school chaps, but our relationship has finally begun to show signs or life
I know that it sounds morbid, but before you think I was making fake funeral arrangements and deleting him from my phone, I should give you some background on the exercise and our relationship.
The idea of writing him as if he was dead actually came from a practice that my wife uses. When she’s upset with someone, she will write them a letter of and then toss the letter in the trash. She says that it helps her workout her feelings. I just took it a step further!
Our relationship soured to the point that I was ready to put a do not resuscitate tag on it. There were not screaming matches or drunken fights at family functions. Actually, that type of conflict is usually easier to resolve. Unfortunately, our troubled relationship slowly decayed.
When I tried the exercise I was surprised how different it felt. I sat down (obviously, right?) and wrote him a letter full of feelings, frustrations as if he was dead. The idea of writing to my deceased dad removed the anger that would have no doubt come to the surface had we spoken. After all, what good is being mad at a dead guy going to do?
My words just kept flowing on to the page. I wrote that despite our different personalities he’d been an amazing father for the first 30 years of my life. But ever since I was diagnosed with ALS, a terminal disease with no known cause or cure he went MIA
If you aren’t familiar with ALS it’s a vicious disease that takes away its victim’s ability to walk, talk, and ultimately breathe. This happens all while the brain stays completely intact. It can be an extremely isolating life. This made the disappearance of our relationship that much more painful.
Before my diagnosis we had a great relationship. We spoke regularly and he was my go-to resource for all things adulting. He was always supportive of my career choices even when they were risky.
My dad contracted Polio as an infant and never had use of his legs. He used crutches for the first 55 years of his life, but now uses a power wheelchair like me. He never let his physical limitations stop him from being successful and a great father. He even went as far as taking up golf so we could play together. Looking back now, it took a brave man to go to such great lengths to spend time with his son.
But when I contracted ALS he stopped making an effort. I felt like when I could have used his experience and support the most, he was nowhere to be found. It was like he had the playbook to being a disabled dad, but refused to share it. I have a beautiful girl named Elliott that will be three years old in February. I like to think that I would be receptive to any knowledge he could have imparted to me.
The fact that both of us used power wheelchairs seems like it would have been an instant bond. I remember being out in public and thinking that people probably think that we must have the same disease. Spending the first half of your life standing up straight and then being forced into a chair took a lot of time to accept.
Looking back now, I think I didn’t recognize his disability as much of one. After all, he just couldn’t walk. He could still talk and use his upper body. I on the other hand couldn’t walk, talk or even breathe. That was a wall that I put between us without even knowing it.
As I continued to write I explained that I wish we would have found a common way to communicate before he passed. I lost the ability to talk about five years ago. I rely on a Microsoft Surface Pro with eye gaze technology to communicate with the world now. I text, tweet, and even write stories with my eyes so even if we couldn’t have physically talked, we could have at least conversed.
I told my dad how unhappy I was with his lack of effort. Despite being in his mid seventies, he’s extremely tech savvy. He’s always been that way. I vividly remember him teaching me the home keys on his Commodore 64. But for some reason that same interest was not extended to staying in touch with me.
I met my wife online. In fact, she’s never heard me speak. What could possibly have been my dad’s reasoning?
The idea of writing something to someone that has passed away creates this, “it can’t hurt”, way of feeling that is extraordinarily freeing. But there is also a calm almost somber element to the exercise.
I took responsibility for different exchanges in the past that had only created more space between us. The idea of apologizing to a dead guy was surprisingly easy because I wasn’t worried about the judgment or shame you’d typically feel when you admit you were wrong.
After I rolled around my house some, and annoyed my wife and daughter, I mustered up the courage to hit send. I’d hoped with every ounce of my being that my message would find him at the right time but I had no idea how it would be received.
It didn’t make it any less dramatic that I made the subject – The Letter I Wish I Would Have Sent to My Dad Before He Died
I waited. I waited some more. I hit refresh. I hit refresh some more. It wasn’t until later that night that I saw his reply.
He thanked me for writing to him and asked if he could take a day to respond. I quickly responded, telling him to take his time.
The next day, I received his reply. He was candid about his relationship, or lack thereof, with his father and the difference between being disabled in the 1960’s and today. I knew that the relationship with his dad was a factor. But I had never thought about how different our experiences as people with disabilities have been. He remembers not being offered jobs because he was on crutches. Fast forward to me ripping apart an owner of a local store for not having a better wheelchair ramp.
He is a baby boomer. Part of the country’s greatest generation. And more importantly, he is still alive. I would love to tell you that we now email regularly, but after a few emails back and forth, it was over. However, the written exchange definitely released all of the pressure that had built up between us. He is a good man and one I’m proud to call my dad.
No one likes to have heavy, potentially explosive conversations. We tend to bury the feelings that are at the root of the problem, if we acknowledge its existence at all. The idea of my dad actually dying before we fixed our relationship was simply too sad to think about. I had no idea how the letter would work. Truthfully, you won’t either. But if it’s already a fractured relationship, what do you have to lose? Sit down and start writing!
Great, well-written article!
Inspiring article