So, I got one of those flashes of insight tonight. There have been things I've been unwilling to say to Dad because I was hurt and angry and bitter and all those other negative emotions. Well, as I was listening to a John Mayer concert, the song "Daughters" elicited a response.

And, this is it. So, no more bitching about Dad's shortcomings. This is the beginning of true healing. I want to love him. Therefore, I will.

Dad,

I was listening to a John Mayer concert on TV tonight and one of his songs really struck me. Many thoughts occurred to me as I was listening and I want to tell you what they were. I feel the need to add my disclaimer, thus, take this letter with a grain of salt. I am writing to you on behalf of the 9-year-old girl who hasn't been able to grow up yet. This letter is not about blame, shame or guilt. This is a form of therapy.

I don't want you to discount this letter, however, just because it is a form of therapy. This is serious to me and I believe it will change both our lives for the better.

That said, let me share the lyrics that started this whole thing.

John Mayer "Daughters"

I know a girl
She puts the color inside of my world
She's just like a maze
Where all of the walls all continually change
And I've done all I can
To stand on her steps with my heart in my hands
Now I'm starting to see
Maybe it's got nothing to do with me

Fathers be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers be good to your daughters too

Oh, you see that skin?
It's the same she's been standing in
Since the day she saw him walking away
Now she's left
Cleaning up the mess he made

Fathers be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers be good to your daughters too

Boys, you can break
You'll find out how much they can take
Boys will be strong
And boys soldier on
But boys would be gone without warmth from
A woman's good, good heart

On behalf of every man
Looking out for every girl
You are the god and the weight of her world

So fathers be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers be good to your daughters, too
So mothers be good to your daughters, too
So mothers be good to your daughters, too

He's right. That's why God said to turn the hearts of the fathers to their children, then the hearts of the children to their fathers. Girls learn how to love from their fathers. Girls get their sense of personal value from their fathers.

Well, enough set up. This is the letter as it came out on paper.

Dad, this is what I want you to know.

I love you. God brought you and Mom together so that I could have you for my Dad. I am so much like you that it's truly astounding.

I want to be the best parts of you.

Your love of animals.
Your sense of humor and turn of phrase
Your joy in the beautiful things around you
Your happiness in the peace of your son
Your pleasure in the way Spike refused to take "no" for an answer.

Dad, some very bad things happened in your life. You were both mistreated and misunderstood. Your mother and father placed unfair expectations on you. Your brothers were unfair, cruel, rude, and thought of as wonderful by those who didn't know the truth. Your ex abandoned you, stealing your children and rejecting you over and over and over.

These things were all unfair, wrong and destructive to you. You should not have had to experience them.

Likewise, there were unfair expectations in my life. I was misunderstood. I was mistreated. I was rejected by multiple individuals frequently, and I had to put up with the WonderFink.

Mom has told me that you've learned some things about yourself during these past few months. While this is a very good thing, I'm a little hesitant to believe it. Well, as I was listening to the John Mayer song I quoted earlier, I realized something about myself.

You and I are practically carbon copies. Our lives have followed very similar paths. I have grown hard and bitter and angry just like you did. I don't want to be those bad parts of you anymore. So, because you have made some prayerful changes in your life, I want to do the same. I don't believe I will ever have a good, healthy relationship with a man, or God, if we don't fix the problems between us.

I want to tell you what my issues with you are. I need you to listen to this, please. I need to say these things, and I need you to hear me.

Dad, when you discounted my sensitivity � by taunting me with "Cry louder, little girl." And "None of those crocodile tears." � I felt stupid, wrong and unloved, because I believed that a Dad was supposed to nurture his kids; because I thought you were supposed to be kind and gentle and nice to me; because I was just like you, and I thought you would see my sensitivity, my gentleness, and encourage them, not discourage them.

When you beat me when I was 9, I felt scared, bad, evil, unforgivable and worthless, because I thought you hated me; because I believe you should have known better; because your actions told me that two dollars were worth more than me, and because you never apologized, nor did you hug me afterward.

Dad, that last bit is what I've been needing for nearly thirty years.

A couple years ago you asked me, "Did I ever apologize for that?" I said, "No." But you still didn't apologize.

Dad, I don't want to rehash this, or make you feel guilty or ashamed or angry. What I need, from you, is for you to tell me you're sorry. I need you to hug me and tell me you love me. I need you to stop pretending that nothing happened. I need you to look me in the eye and tell me that you love me.

That's what Daddies do. After a spanking, after punishment, Daddies hug their little girls so that those little girls have that physical proof that they are, indeed, worthy of love.

Dad, I know, mentally, that you love me. You have proven that many, many times. But, my body, my heart, the nine-year-old girl inside me is still crying because her daddy won't hug her and tell her it will all be okay. It was your job to protect me and keep me safe. It's not too late.

I know that this seems really one-sided. I don't mean to make it look like I never did anything wrong. I know full well that I bear responsibility with the silver dollar thing. But, I'm not writing from the adult perspective. I'm writing on behalf o the nine-year-old girl who is still sniffling, still scared, still sad because her Daddy hasn't told her he still loves her.

So; when you come home, hug me. Hug me for a long time. Tell me you're sorry. Tell me that you still love me, and that there will never be a time when you don't love me. Hold me until I cry. And don't stop holding me until I stop crying.

I think that both you and I will continue to get sicker until we have fixed our relationship. I don't want letters. I don't want gifts. I don't want "cool".

Whether you agree with me or not, what I want is for you to tell the nine-year-old that I've been protecting for nearly thirty years, that you love her, that you will always love her, that you're sorry for letting her go so long believing she was worthless.

I need you to be the grown-up here.

After she knows that you love her again, she can go play and I can stop protecting her.

Dad, I don't want to be scared, crying and alone anymore. Your parents may have died before they could apologize to little Billy, but let the cycle stop with you. Don't die before you do what you can to heal your daughter's fractured heart.

On behalf of your Mommy:

I'm sorry, Billy, that I didn't hug you enough. I'm sorry that I made you responsible for Jimmy and Joey. I'm sorry, precious Billy, that I demanded you be a grown-up before you got to be a child. Mostly, though, I'm sorry that I never told you how very proud of you I really am. You are the best son I could have ever had. You are my first born and I always loved you best. I'm so sorry I didn't say that before.

You make me so very proud, Billy. You are the best thing I ever, ever did. I love you!

On behalf of your Daddy:

Billy, William, my son, I am so sorry that I didn't protect you from your brothers and your mother. I'm sorry that I hid away and made you take my place. I'm sorry that I chose to go fishing or play the piano instead of spending time with you.

I'm sorry that I let your mother take your puppy tails. They were really neat and you should have been allowed to keep them.

Bill, I'm sorry that I died before I could tell you how very proud I always was of you. I'm sorry that I didn't encourage your acting and your art. You were so good!

My son, my precious son, I'm so sorry that I didn't stop Sharon. She was wrong to break your heart. BUT, I am so proud of you for giving me such beautiful and valuable grandchildren. Billy, you became a good man and a good father! Your mother and I love you so very much. Thank you for being MY boy. There is no one else like you, son. I am so proud to have had the chance to meet you. You are what every father hopes for in a son.

Dad, I recognize how very much you love me. Thank you for being MY Dad.