Dear Dad, I Need You

Posted byDylan LevittPosted inUncategorized

Disclaimer: This isn’t a perfect post. And to be 100% honest, I only spent about 25 minutes on it (oh, and cried while putting together the first half and picking out the photo); plus, the only changes I made were grammatical ones. So, these are my feelings in real time, and as raw as they get.

But this is how I heal. And process the continuous road that is my life, all the bumps and potholes included.

Writing is my lifeline. My first passion. And my greatest accomplishment. I truly place so much of who I am into the words I create.

I hope that Dear Dad, I Need You, will resonate with someone out there who is struggling, and so beyond lost on what to do. My god, do I feel you. And it makes it even harder when you wish to tell the one person who you can’t. In 2025, we can manufacture a 5,000 word essay in 30 seconds, but we still can’t figure out how to call someone in heaven.

But when we do, I’ll be the first in line, phone in hand…

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Dear Dad,

I don’t think I’ve needed you this badly in a while. But right now, I am in so much pain, I can barely breathe, and it seems as though my life is falling apart. 

And I really want to call you up, you know. So that you can make me laugh and remind me it’s going to be alright. Because it just doesn’t feel like it at the moment. 

I am trying so damn hard to move on and to try and fix what I inevitably think is broken, but I don’t even think I have it in me. Or the skill. And who knows if you would either, but at least your voice would feel like home. Your chuckle the best medicine. Your smile what I needed to remember I’ve got one of my own, which looks an awful lot like the one you used to wear.

And believe me, I know why you had to go. Hell, I’ve felt deep pain myself. But still, I selfishly wish you were here. I can just picture what you’d say: the most horrific, out-of-pocket comment imaginable, but it’d be exactly the thing to make me erupt into complete and utter laughter. 

Dad, you made me feel safe. And loved. And I could really use those two things.

So, if you wouldn’t mind visiting me in my dreams one of these nights with arms wide open, I would really appreciate it. 

Sincerely,

Your 20-year-old daughter who hasn’t a clue what she is doing

6 thoughts on “Dear Dad, I Need You”

  2. Hi Dylan 🙂

    Your sadness not only seeps through, it is blatantly obvious … and (of course) understandable.

    That said I need to nitpick (“if it weren’t for us nitpickers, we’d all be knee-deep in nits” 😉 ).

    You say your life is more-or-less all about writing. I get that. I too find writing rewarding and also very therapeutic. I have nothing against writing, and I am all for writing done right. Now “right” and “wrong” are very subjective things … so please allow me to point out something I feel would make your writing even more closer to 100% right.

    Way back when — when you started this blog — you wrote that “We Got This” was the raison d’être (hahaha — I actually DDG’d that and copied all the accent marks etc. so I could paste them here). Well, that’s the title. The heading. That’s what this is all (supposed to be) about. Are you 100% there? IMHO, not yet. You still have a way to go — and maybe that is good and perfectly fine, and maybe you will indeed never reach the point where it’s 100% complete, done, finished, whatever (and that is understandable too).

    I’ve now “lost” both of my parents, too. It sucks, but stuff happens. It’s actually surprising that we go through life thinking death is not even a possibility, let alone a certainty (as Ben Franklin famously pointed out).

    Needing something to happen which you know cannot possibly happen is (IMHO) not a good place to be. But acknowledging that “WE” are here, “WE” are willing to care for and support one another, etc. can (AFAIK) make life better. Maybe it could even make bearing it and dealing with it also … a rewarding process to go through together.

    I feel if you wrote about that kind of stuff, I would feel happier and more like your writing is 100% spot on. I doubt you would be done with it in a flash, but maybe the “bright side of life” might shine through a little more … (?)

    I’m just expressing my own thoughts about this, because — well, IDK why. But I strongly feel like I want to (and am trying to) help.

    🙂 Norbert

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  6. You are such a beautiful and strong girl who looks so much like your Dad. He is with you. He is with you all the time. He is watching you and is so unbelievably proud of you. Stay strong! I miss your Dad too. We were very good friends at West Chester. I love your writing and you truly have a gift.

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