Dear Dad,
You can come home now.
Mom and I are both done with the quiet, stillness of the house and this new reality. It's time for you to come home.
Right now I wouldn't even care if you gave me crap about the state of my living space or being a hermit and not getting up and moving when you think I should. I would welcome your rants on politics and "those people" or climate change and big box stores or...
I keep waiting for my phone to ring and for you to be on the other end, just checking in because it's been so long since we last talked. I keep waiting for an email with random things about your day to arrive in my inbox because you are away from home and you just need to check in with me.
I didn't realize how much I welcomed your swiveling in your chair when I walked in the front door at night, a smile on your face and a "Hi, Kiddo" ready for me as Rachel Maddow or Jon Stewart blared from the TV, until the last four months when you haven't been there...when I walk in the door to silence and realize, you aren't ever going to be there again.
It sucks. It hurts. I miss you so much. I just want you to come home, for this little corner of the world to be right again...I want my Daddy back.
