I helped my dad die.
When I was younger, like 9/10/11/ I got pocket money from my mum who would be on and off with my dad, I love them both so much but my dad was only supporting our family off a benefit and was a raging alcoholic so when he spent all his money on booze he would ask me for money and say in turn I will give you double what you give me when I get paid on Tuesday, I let my greediness get the better of me and agreed to often give him money. This happened so often he obviously damaged his body at a young age.
Last year, he developed cancer of the liver from drinking so much. I was eleven. He kept it secret from our family for a whole year because he thought he would be protecting us and was visiting the doctors secretly until they contacted my mum saying he had only two months to live. I remember her telling me in the car at 12 years old on my way to the dentist, I was trying to hold back tears because I hate crying in front of my mum she is so strong.
I still remember the day he went into his bedroom and didn’t get up for another two weeks because he was so weak. He couldn’t talk and I was too scared to talk to him because I was in denial that he was dying. We spent our last night with him crying and all I could do was stare at his bedridden body, he was basically already dead. I couldn’t bring myself to even say I love you. I couldn’t touch him. All I did was cry because I knew it was my fault he got cancer and that he was dying. I was always his favourite little girl, we did everything together. We were basically twins and I loved him so much.
I cry so often because the guilt still lives with me, I have never told anyone. I wish he was here because my mother is depressed and it makes me so sad, they met at 18 and have been in love ever since.
I miss my daddy angel so much and I don’t know what to do, my thirteenth birthday is soon and it has hit me very hard that he won’t be here for it. I think about it so much more lately and I had the biggest breakdown when I was looking at my baby album. There was a picture where he was holding me in his arms, and his caption at the bottom of the page read ’never stopped lovin em’.
I hate myself, it was all my fault. I helped my own f****** father die. I would give my life to bring him back, honestly. I barely got any time with him its just not fair. Just 12 years knowing my own father. I can’t stop thinking about him, I love that guy so much and if he can read this somehow I just want you to know I love and miss you daddy. Please forgive me.
I will miss you and never let you go.
Now, a poem I read at his funeral:
When I come to the end of the road
And the sun has set for me
I want no rites in a gloom filled room
Why cry for a soul set free?

Miss me a little, but not for long
And not with your head bowed low
Remember the love that once we shared
Miss me, but let me go.

For this is a journey we all must take
And each must go alone.
It’s all part of the master plan
A step on the road to home.

When you are lonely and sick at heart
Go to the friends we know.
Laugh at all the things we used to do
Miss me, but let me go.