Dear Dad,
A newsletter of the thoughts, feelings, and chaotic musings that plague me as I try to exist on Earth, as an adult human, even though my dad died. Join me as I toss myself into the ether, overshare, and process this weird, weird life.write up for dear dad
Dad, are you there?
For as long as I can remember, I’ve had one crippling fear that topped all the rest:
That my dad would die young and be taken from me before I was able to glean all that I was meant to as the daughter of a hero.
My worst fear came true on October 7, 2022, when my angelic father, Brett Lee Thompson, passed away unexpectedly; his hand held tightly around mine, like always.
Navigating life without him has felt simultaneously debilitating and inspiring, like waking up from a dream only to realize the world as you’ve known it was lying to you. It’s as if my sight, sense of smell, hearing, touch, and taste have all been eliminated completely, and i’m left with a new invisible sense–more potent than any of the rest have ever been. Like part of the soul that left his body that October afternoon made a home somewhere deep inside mine; in a dad-shaped space I had been preparing all along unbeknownst to me.
Dear Dad, is my cry to the heavens and the hope that they’ll hear me. It’s honoring my father and his legacy of kindness, goodness, sharing, service, and unconditional love. It’s my desperate universal plea to make sense of the woman who I now see in the mirror and her purpose on this big, terrifying, spinning rock.
Join me as I try* to come to terms with the realities of humanity and the complexities that come with being alive. Everyone is welcome.
