The Rise & Fall: the destruction of a family
The letter’s let us express the things that are in the heart. Thoughts at times that are too strong to communicate through conversation. We each experienced traumatic moments in our lives, but it is how we react, build and grow from these moments that determine our course. Over the course of reading the letter, I hope to let you experience the pain and anguish I have felt after having to confront the repercussions of having to berate my inlaws in defense of my wife and daughters. After taking a hard look at the verbal attacks on my family, I could not handle the situation. The letter that follows is in response to multiple communications that followed the event. While there are aspects that very partial, I am not afraid to be open and honest. Right, wrong or indifferent, I share these words hoping that others will find solace in having to sever relationships for a greater good. Seek the truth; if you are struggling with difficult decisions, find comfort in these words and affirm that you are making the best decision given the circumstances.
To whom it may concern,
“ Some things seem to take over your life” -Craig David, “The Rise & Fall.”
There are several things that I feel that I need to explain, I do owe you an apology, and two, I owe you an explanation.
First, I want to apologize for the actions that you thought were a betrayal of your kindness. I apologize. I have no excuse for doing so. This was just a lack of thought and judgment, based on me just being busy with life.
Know that I do not now, nor have I ever thought of you as an ATM. I humbly ask your forgiveness. I hope my mistake won’t prevent you from having a relationship with your daughter in the future.
Second, to respond to the reoccurring question from the various letters and phone calls. No, I do not, nor have I always hated you. I feel that you want an opportunity to speak your side of the story, but all your actions confirm that you did not hear a word I said during Thanksgiving. That you see that all of this happened as a result of things that occurred last July. While some of it may have been rooted in that, it is not entirely based on that. Other than what I referenced about the events that happened post-July, my main point was that you, of your own admission, said you did not know when you were coming back and felt overwhelmed. Be that from the interaction with, K, or the girls, I think you want to be treated like an adult but continually wish to act like a child and have tantrums.
Yes, I did say that you would not see the girls, but that is within my right as a parent. Over the time you came out in October and over Thanksgiving, you commented and acted as if being a grandparent was a chore. You continually told L that you were not sure that you loved her based on behavior when you contributed to the outbursts. Now I cannot tell you how you should have a relationship with your children. That is for the three of you to sort out. I can say that I won’t have you using Love as a weapon. For me, these two girls will have it hard enough in this world without having a grandmother who uses Love as a weapon or a condition. So I removed you from that. It pains me for J not to have a relationship given the circumstances. Still, I want both L and J to know without a shadow of a doubt that their family loves them. That no matter what, home and with family is a safe place. I watched, observed, and just sat back. You continually showed through your actions that for you, Love is a weapon, a way to torment, manipulate, and is conditional on how they make you feel.
For my family and me, that is not loved. As dysfunctional as my family is, Love is not a condition. No matter: the situation, the circumstance, the fights, the behavior, or the distance, I know that we all love each other.
As a father, I have to do everything to protect my children, even more so than most. An attack on my family internally hurts more than externally. While you may not share all of my sister-in-law’s feelings, on some level, you agree. Your act of silence is a direct admission of the acceptance you have. Finding fully that a child was tormented and feeling like a servant while at our home. I say that you should have said something. At no point did we mention that you had to help, except for when you came in July. But I digress.