the letter
Dad,
I urge you to think long and hard about your decision not to come to my wedding. I understand that you have a difficult situation in hand, but what you’re considering is a terrible insult to me, to BF, and to everyone else who attends. Do you really think you will look back and have no regrets about missing my wedding – for work, for emotional difficulty, and for the cost of a plane ticket? Do you think this is the best way to introduce yourself to my new family?
If not attending is about money, that is a problem we can solve. I know that BF and I and, if necessary, BF’s family, will help with travel costs. That’s what you do for the people you love: you help them to be there at important events. And make no mistake – this event is extremely important.
If, instead, you are dubious about seeing my mother and about bringing NW, that is a reason you will have to come to terms with on your own. It will be a choice, not a sacrifice – no one is manipulating you into it, nor is it anyone else’s fault. Remember that.
As for paying for the wedding…if you had just told me that you can’t and/or won’t pay for it, that would have been all right with me. I don’t really care about the money one way or the other. But enumerating a list of the expenses of my life was unnecessary, petty, and extremely hurtful. That email made me feel as if my life has been nothing to you but a set of expenses that you regret and resent. I realize you were trying to demonstrate that you are “tapped out”, but your method was thoughtless and cold-hearted.
I apologize for the delay in answering your email, but I did not think it was a good idea to lay out to you my immediate thoughts upon reading it.
Take care.
Crisitunity
March 4, 2010 at 10:45 pm
I think that you were fair, sincere and way more appropriate than I could have been in your shoes. My father sent me a letter when I graduated listing how much money he had paid in child support for me and that had I elected to live with him, I could have had that money upon graduation. It hurt. I was angry. And, let’s be honest, it costs more than a couple hundred dollars a month to raise a kid, even then. I nearly let it ruin my graduation ceremony as I got the letter that afternoon. But, I just held my head up and carried on. However, I did quit speaking to him. I’ve seen him exactly once in the years since. It did not go well. I hear now that he’s become senile and does not recognize any of my siblings. And I am not sure if I regret cutting him out of my life or not. I think about it often. I try to squelch the “what if” thoughts. And I still waiver between righteous indignation and feeling sorry for him, for myself and for my children who will never know their maternal grandfather.
I truly hope that this is not a door shutting between you and your father. Whatever happens, I am behind you.
What an asshole. That’s a horrible thing to do, much worse than what’s happened to me. For my money, I think you did exactly the right thing; you have to remember that when you ask what if, you’ve also got to think “what if he’d been even worse to me later?” instead of just imagining all the happy what-ifs.
The children thing is something I can’t help you with. I’ve had no relationship to speak of with any of my grandparents and I haven’t really regretted it. But your father was the one who precluded that, not you.
March 7, 2010 at 2:34 am
Oh! I’m not sad that my children don’t know an Asshole for a grandfather, but more that they don’t have a wonderful, loving grandfather like I did. That is a shame. My paternal grandfather was the best darn Grandpa ever and he influenced so much of who I am today. My kids don’t have that. But, better than having as Asshole, right?
March 4, 2010 at 11:16 pm
Wow. It sounds perfect – honest, constructive, succinct and straightforward.
Thanks.
March 5, 2010 at 2:40 am
I agree with Oregon Sunshine and catherine, it’s a very good letter, and much better than what I would have written in the same circumstances. I hope your father reconsiders, that’s a milestone in one’s child’s life that shouldn’t be missed.
Agreed!
March 5, 2010 at 10:09 am
You didn’t hit below the belt, but you didn’t pull your punches, either. And you didn’t back down an inch from what you thought was right.
Bravo, madam.
High praise, my friend. Thank you.
March 11, 2010 at 9:25 pm
Click send. That’s the best response you can make.