Sunday, March 1, 2009


I was so ready to take a shower - end up curled back to the couch naked to continue watching. And then cried the hell outta myself. Geez.


That’s when Caroline’s reading what her father wrote to her.

“Happy Birthday.” “I wish I could have kissed you goodnight."

“Happy Birthday, you’re five.” “I wish I could have taken you to your first day of school.”

“Happy Birthday six-year-old.” “I wish I could be there to teach you how to play the piano...”

“11...” “...Told you not to chase some boy...”

“13...” “Held you when you had a broken heart...”

“1983.” I was fifteen. “I wish I could have been your father. Nothing I ever did will replace that...”

“For what it's worth: it's never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There's no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you're proud of. If you find that you're not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again. “


Damn. Such a sad, sad story.

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