Dear Dad,
In five months, you'll be 93 years old. And while I would never say what I'm about to say to your face (or actual letter), I have a few things to get off my chest.
I got to thinking about this the other day when sister Barb brought you out to my house (for the first time in 4 months--6 miles away). After you left, I felt very despondent. Here's why.
I am sick and tired of defending myself from your constant, life-long critcisms. Rather than commenting on how nice the house and yard look, you start nit-picking. "You need to fix your back yard" (new septic area); "What do you need with all that firewood. You need to quit that chain saw foolishness"; "You should sell your house. It's too big for you"; then, "You should hire a house cleaner. Your sister moved out because it is unsanitary."; "If you wouldn't play so much golf, you could keep this place is better condition."
This goes on everytime we're together. I exercise too much, am too thin, don't eat properly, should see a doctor about my fingernails, etc. It's always something critical or controlling. Think about it.
To listen to you, I've been nothing but a failure my whole life. From the big events (two failed marriages, being just a school teacher), to my daily lifestyle, my shortcomings are mentioned every time you see me. It's little wonder I visit you only once or twice a week. You always hurt me.
No, I'm not the carpenter you are, not the pianist you are, not the businessman you are. No, I have not reached the Arthur Smith high standards of success. Believe me, it's not for lack of trying. The bar you set has always been high. I've just never been good enough to reach it.
But I'm not exactly a failure. Think about what I do have and what I have done. Give me credit. Give me some respect. For once, tell me you're proud of me. I suppose you care enough about me to be so critical, but you could express your love with concern and compassion. Even a "I love you" would be a welcome addition (You've NEVER said that!).
Fortunately, I have a fairly high self esteem. I know I've been successful in many areas, and I'm proud of my accomplishments. I have you to thank for many of them, perhaps because I've been driven to make you proud of me.
So after a lifetime of chastisement, I've decided to stop defending myself against all accusations (bordering verbal abuse). When you start in on me, I'm playing "possum". Whatever, Dad. I am who I am, and you can't change me. And, I can't change you! There is one request I have for you: please quit calling me "You big dumb". That's really demeaning.
Until the next time, I love you.
Your Son,
Randy
But she improved after I stopped visiting her as much
(and therefore she doesn't see her only Grandkids...)