Mine and my father's relationship was always about ups and downs. When I was growing up, I remember him to be a loving and caring person, always there when I needed him. He would spend hours braiding my hair, or if I had to have a special school project done he would help me with it. I remember motorcycle rides on the back of his Goldwing to Catholic school (Oh the looks we would get, but I loved it) and I was daddy's little girl.

Somewhere along the line I started to grow up...and grow further apart. As I hit teenage years my focus went from my father to my mother and I was no longer a daddy's girl. My mother was cooler, in my eyes, since my dad was 20 years her senior and I guess what I thought to be an "old fuddy duddy".

My smart mouth and attitude didnt help the situation at all. Alot of it, I asked for, I think. He was mean, grouchy, and abusive. Not physically, but emotionally. He would call me the filthiest names, I would run and cry in my room.

That was the beginning of the end. 18 hit, and instead of me moving away, my mother and father split up, and daddy went away. Moved back to his hometown in Wisconsin. I shortly moved away after that, off to Maryland to be with a now ex that wasnt at all worth the move.

My dad had this preference of writing letters...he said they felt more sincere then a mere phone call. I hated writing letters. At first I did it when he would write me, and I'd write him back. Then as the years progressed, and my life changed, the letters got few and far between, and I just stopped writing all together. There was no reason. I wasn't mad at him. I just genuinally hated writing letters. I would call him but he would always cut the phone call short, or complain about my mom, so I rarely did that as well.

10 years passed since I had seen him. I was now in Oklahoma, and my mom got ahold of him, because I hadnt talked to him in awhile and I was wondering what he was up to. He called me here, in April of 2011. I talked to him, told him what I was up to, and that "Yeah dad, sure I'll write you a letter as soon as I can get a stamp". Little did I know that was the last time I would ever hear his voice or talk to him.

I kept telling myself, I'll write him tonight. I even had a stamped envelope for about a year before I actually wrote him. He never tried to get into contact with me after that phone call, and I figured he didnt care enough to call me I wouldnt call him. Juvenile. He called me to begin with, but I guess I forgot that somewhere along the way. Time just flew by. Before I knew it, it had been a year since I had talked to him at all. I always thought about him, wondered what he was doing, but I never wrote, and I really dont know why.

Then strange things started happening in my bedroom. My surround sound system would wake me up in the middle of the night with static noises, even tho it was off, and had to be pushed on to come on. For some reason, it made me think of him. Like as if, I knew deep down, he was trying to get ahold of me. So I decided to write him last week.

Well yesterday the letter came back. "Cannot be delivered as adressed" I was thinking to myself, "What the hell does that mean?" So I looked up the apartment duplex he lived in for seniors, and called it.

I really didnt expect to even be told what I was. "Your father passed away, in November of last year."

I really dont know how I should feel. At first, I was sort of in shock. The lady on the phone was very empathetic, and I was just like "its ok". Then when I hung up I started crying. Like...how can he just be here one minute and be gone the next? I cant even say goodbye...cant even say I forgive you...nothing. I have so much guilt and regret....and its been so long already, almost a year. He mustve thought I was a really shitty daughter. I do. And he died in his apartment, all alone. He probably thought I didnt even care. But I did. I just was too wrapped up in my own life....and all I want to say now is I'm sorry and I love you, but its too late. I dont even feel like I deserve to be sad..or upset...I wasnt there for him in his last few years when he needed me the most. And even tho he was grouchy, and had his flaws, he didnt deserve to just be...ignored by me. He didnt deserve to die alone.