Hi friends,

I pray you are tending to your hearts and caring for yourself as best possible in the midst of the heaviness surrounding the world, inner and outer.

I was going to share this yesterday, but shared a poem instead as I was tending to my own heart and checking in with how vulnerable I wanted to be. Sharing intimate parts of your journey is never easy, especially involving people you Love.

I wrote my dad a letter back in February of this year when he experienced a health scare, one that opened my eyes and heart wider to the reality of the time we have with each other in this lifetime.

This letter opened the door wider for our healing. We’ve been on a journey, he and I.

Today, I share a piece of that letter in honor of Father’s Day.
May we all continue opening the doors to our healing. Not for others but for ourselves.

Hey Dad,

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid of you leaving this Earth. We are alike, you and me, connected in more ways than we realize. It’s what brought me back from Arizona early. My body could sense something was off, my body has been mirroring your symptoms. Grandma was right, I am a Brown. My blood is Brown’s blood.

We reject the things that are hard to see and accept about ourselves that’s why it has been difficult for us to get along. Our reflections are the same, the things that frustrate me about you, I do. The things that frustrate you about me are because it reminds you of yourself or maybe a self you wish you could go back and correct.

I may be 33 but I still need help. I’m learning to stand on my own two feet again but just like a baby, it takes time to catch your balance. Thank you for understanding that and still helping me in the ways you are able to. Stepping in when you see I could use help but probably won’t ask for it.

My empathy for you grows more over time. I can’t imagine what it was like balancing the responsibilities of yourself and a family. You’ve been doing it since you were young. Making decisions is overwhelming and there are consequences, both good and bad, to everything we do. As time goes on, the weight of those decisions gets heavier. Especially when you are trying to create a life for yourself.

I hope you know that you did not fail. I hope you can look back and see why everything had to happen in the way that it did and that God kept you and us through it all. We were never without a home. Your business was a redirection. Your health may not have sustained the stress of entrepreneurship. I am grateful you were given more time and I am inspired that you were able to turn things around in the way you did. Sacrifices are made along the way, big and small, some more painful than others, but I trust that you made decisions with us in mind, doing the best you could with the information you had at the time.

I’ve been angry with you for a lot of my life. For reasons I couldn’t fully understand. I forgive you for the things that have been left unspoken. I am an adult now and have to take responsibility for my life. Anger, blame, frustration does me no good. I only have space to accept and learn from my past and the past of others, yours specifically because I am walking a similar one.

Is there anything you would have done differently? Is there anything you want me to know?

You have a kind, loving, childlike, generous heart and you give a lot of it, you need your heart for you now so stay strong. You may have had the nickname Big Bad Leroy Brown but you really are a gentle giant. Life made you rougher and you had to stand up for and protect yourself and the people around you. I’m learning that for myself. It’s been nice to see you soften over time, to return to the you that you are at your core. Life has a way of bring us back to ourselves.

Proud to call you my father and grateful to have learned from you in this lifetime.

Love,

Grace Brown