Hi, Daddy.
Tomorrow you are going into a partial hospitalization program for the second time, and I don't know what to write to you or what to tell you.
But I know what I wish I could tell you. I wish I could tell you that I have hope that you that your depression could go completely away, that there is a life ahead of you that is much more joy than sadness, with no more long episodes of having nothing that makes you happy. I wish I could tell you that. I wish I could tell you, here, I have hope for the future - you can take some of it. You can hold on to it for a while, for as long as you want.
But I can't tell you that. I hate to hear you say that no program is really going to cure you, going to make your depression go away forever, because that sounds so hopeless - but I believe you.
And it seems selfish to want to hold you here, to life, just because I really, really, really don't want to be without you. Because I don't think that we can be without you. I know what I do have hope for - that you can have some things that make you happy, sometimes. That you can have some times where you laugh and feel engaged and enjoy life for a little while. Is that enough to work for? Because I know it is work, a lot of it, all the time. Is that enough to work for, besides keeping us stable and connected to you and happy?
It seems like so much work for so little payoff for you. And yet I'm so grateful that you do it. That you did it in hospital years ago, that you're willing to do it again now, that you've done it nearly every day for so many years. I'm so grateful that I still have my Dad, and that you works so that you can have a little bit of joy, and I can have times where I get to talk to you and learn from you and joke with you and play with you. I am so grateful. I love you so much.
Dave and I just started a fast for you. We wanted to give you some sign for you to know that we'll be thinking of you all day tomorrow. But I hope that you would've known that anyway, that you would've known that we're always thinking of you, and especially would be when you took a big step like this.
I love you so much, Daddy. Thank you for being here for me.
Jaime
What a beautiful letter! I have heard many times that people with depression just need to spend less time thinking of themselves and more time focusing on others. It means a lot to see someone acknowledge that great act of love and sacrifice that keeps someone who is suffering here. It made me cry. :)
ReplyDeleteI agree with the previous comment. I've always admired your gift to express yourself, Jaime. It's a gift that makes a big difference in the lives of those around you. Also, you're so remarkably understanding. I hope there was some success in this most recent of your dad's efforts. Love you :)
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