Loving letters to addict’s daughter

A beautiful post:

Dear Daughter


Hush little baby, don’t say a word, Papa’s going to buy you a mocking bird…

Dear Daughter,

I know it’s hard to understand why I couldn’t stay, but somewhere along the path, your daddy lost his way; then a little birdie came to me with good advice to say; I listened hard and held on tight, then up and flew away; that’s how it had to be, so away I had to fly – so very, very far from you, up, up into the sky. Now in California, I could only think of you, but to be a better daddy meant a mission to renew.  The daddy that you need, a man that isn’t scared; undeniably reliable and no longer impaired.  Wherever we may lay our heads, no count how far apart, I see you in my reflection and keep you safe inside my heart.  Somehow, someday you will have to learn that life’s not always fair; press on my dear, and never fear, I promise I’ll be there – then there are the ones who choose to never understand; this disease left daddy ostracized and banished from the land; but it cannot break our bond, nor ever empty my affection; it fuels my fire to inspire the remedy to their rejection.

And if that mocking bird don’t sing, Papa’s going to buy you a diamond ring…

Dear Daughter,


A diamond is forever, and you’re my diamond in the rough, so no matter what else happens, you’ll forever be enough.  We live, we laugh, we learn, but the time comes when we fail, get back up and try again, that’s how you will prevail.  And when you get distraught; or disgruntled; or disgraced, you can know that I have been there too with mud upon my face.  I’ll never offer judgement when you’re not winning the race, just an understanding; just a warm embrace.  So my dearest daughter, please hear these words I speak, I’ll advocate to bear the weight as we’re climbing towards the peak.  But if your daddy stumbles; if I should tumble down the drop, promise me to carry on and make it to the top.  Your destiny is way up high, just work at it and take it, I have no doubt you’ll knock it out and ultimately make it. Your definition of success will be revealed – go along, and what you’ve known as set it stone, might always have been wrong – I challenge you, sweet baby girl, to forge yourself a dream; the highs and lows are how it goes, revel in the in between.


And if that diamond ring turns brass, Papa’s going to buy you a looking glass…

Dear Daughter,

I wish I could undo so many things that I have done, not taken us for granted; but made us number one. I regret it every day, that I couldn’t see it coming; I was wrapped up in escaping, indulging in life numbing.  It doesn’t mean that I don’t love you or you made any mistakes; I made a choice and lost it all – sometimes that’s what it takes.  But I have started to lose sight of that dark and stormy cloud, forever hanging over me, so I can make you proud; and the time that we have lost, isn’t time that’s lost forever – you are my heart and soul, baby girl, my shiny little treasure.

And if that looking glass….ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

About Nan Mykel

At 79, I was just about to stop keeping a journal, but that felt like accepting that growth was finished. I don't want to be finished, yet! I'm 80 now, and struggling to communicate with you, if you'll come and set awhile. P.S. My how time flies! I'm 83 now.
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