Generational Gratitude: A Letter to My Girls
Thank you for your time, and the opportunities to begin again
Yesterday, I moved away from my girls. Again.
The first time was November 2023.
My ex and I unexpectedly separated, and I was hurt. And in a rush to distance myself, I relocated almost 40 minutes away in a matter of days.
Then, in September of last year, I was laid off and lost my source of income, apartment, andโlargelyโmy direction in life.
Without a second thought, my ex offered her spare bedroom as a temporary respite. The very same one I used to work from before moving out only a few short months earlier.
Since then, Iโve worked through immense pain, and tremendous beauty has unfolded.
Most exquisite of all, though, has been reconnecting with my daughters. Iโve had the pleasure of knowing them for who they are instead of seeing them through a lens of sadness. And theyโve gotten to know who their father is when heโs not acting from a place of self-hatred.
Granted, Iโm now only 15 minutes away. However, moving out from under their roof again resurfaced a lot of sadness I still hadnโt faced.
The difference? Instead of running, this version of Derek leans into his pain, asks what it can teach, and then compassionately releases clinging to it.
And this letter is a manifestation of that self-healing.
May it honor the two most in-tune humans ever to grace this planet, and my blossoming relationship with them.
To My Babies,
Iโm so sorry.
For not addressing my mental health struggles earlier.
For destabilizing you, and not being emotionally available when you needed me in response.
For scaring you, when I should have scooped you into my arms and held you tightly.
For considering it a chore to rub your back.
In all the ways I abandoned your mother, I recognize that I abandoned you even more.
Because you were both so young and couldnโt make sense of my chaos. Or how it was extinguishing your inner lights.
Or why it felt so damn awful.
I suffocate under the weight of the millions of miraculous moments I let slip through my fingers over the years. And I recognize that nothing I write here can make up for these misdeeds.
However, this is a time of new beginnings. An era of renewal brought about by shifted perspectives.
So, instead of ruminating about what has been, in this letter, I choose to express my gratitude to you both for these last eight and a half months and lean into what will be:
Thank you for 256 nights of getting to say โgood night.โ
Thank you for 256 mornings of sending you off to school.
Thank you for 256 afternoons of watching you come home.
Thank you for thousands of little momentsโthe fleeting secondsโin between.
For the hundreds of smiles. Laughing with you. The hugs.
For the dozens of โcan you please keep it downโ in the middle of naps.
The many, many eye rolls.
Over the course of 256 days, I watched friendsโand boyfriendsโcome and go.
And I witnessed two independent, breathtaking young women step into their authenticity when faced with these challenges, and then meet them with emotional grace.
At this point in my journey, I recognize that the most precious gift we can give to anyone is our time. So, thank you for gifting me these past 256 days with you.
If nothing else, I want you both to know that I now see you: Your light. Your kindness, compassion, and empathy. Your limitless promise.
I see that you are miracles. You are love, expressed. And you are reflections of everything good in this world.
Never again will I allow you to forget these truths. Nor for your lights to be dimmed.
Instead of saddling each of you with the weight of generational trauma, I willโfor the remainder of my lifeโonly equip you with the freedom of generational gratitude.
So, thank you.
Thank you.
Thank.
You.
Now, I might be a little farther away geographically, but Iโve never been closer emotionally.
I love you both more than you will ever know,
Dad
Iโm sure itโs an emotional time for you, Derek. Be kind to yourself as you transition into a new space. Iโm still feeling unsettled. Iโm glad you were able to finish your letter. The fact that you didnโt finish it earlier might suggest that you were processing or letting go of what might have been. I feel thatโs part of the grief Iโm experiencing โ what I thought would have been, is not.
Iโm finding I need to settle into a new reality. Iโm not where I thought I would be. It can feel so discouraging at times. I can see it. But, Iโm not there yet.
Itโs nice that you donโt live too far from the kids. Itโs hard to say what the future will hold.
Good luck with the move.
It is like, you have spoken out of my Heart... i had nearly the same expierience ... 7 months and still- appart... thank you for showing the Ending โค๏ธโค๏ธโค๏ธ