Hayley Marcus
An Open Letter to My Father
Hi Dad,

It’s going to be a month this week since you decided to be our angel, and I miss you more with every second. This last month my life has honestly taken off and I would be foolish to think you weren’t already working your magic up there. Part of me feels guilty for my success flourishing finally because you aren’t here to share this with. I have my moments, but the hardest are when I go to text you about something great that’s happening. I know everything is going to be okay and that you are happy up there; but there are times I don’t know how my life is supposed to move on without you. You were the first person to subscribe to the blog and tell me your thoughts on each post. So this section of the blog will forever be dedicated to you. I would do anything for you to be here to see my first published cookbook be released into the world. You were the most excited for the cookbook, and made sure I knew how proud you were that I was chasing my dream. I reread your texts almost every night. I am so happy that we weren’t “talk on the phone” people because now I can cherish every word you ever sent. I just want to see your name on my phone and hear the infamous “Hey Bop” ring in my ears.
With all these accomplishments this last month I do see that contagious smile of yours in my head. The smile we all know and love. The smile many of us attributed to the “baby smile” but I knew it as your pure love. You are truly one of a kind. You made everyone you came in contact with feel loved. You were everyone’s safe space. You were definitely my safe space. I promise that my children will know all about you. I will play all of your favorite songs. I will make sure they know which of my recipes were your favorites. I will make sure they feel the love you had for all people. I will make sure they feel safe with me as I did with you. I will make sure they know they have the absolute best angel watching over them. I will make sure they live their lives knowing the legacy their grandpa left. Your birthday will be a holiday in our house. I promise to continue your pride in being Samoan with them (and teach myself some things in the process).
I know you would hate to see us upset, and I promise I’ll be able to smile and laugh when talking about you soon. Every day is different, but they all hurt the same without you. I wish I was able to come make you that Thanksgiving dinner we talked about for months. I wish I got one last hug. One last kiss. One last time to reminisce on our favorite memories. I just wish this was all a horrible nightmare and that I wake up to life with you here. Everyone tells me it doesn’t get any easier, but that life just changes now; and that makes complete sense to me. I feel like a chunk of myself is missing, but I know that all these blessings that have been happening are from you. So thank you for watching out for us. Keep showing me you’re here with me, and get ready because I will never stop talking to you daily. I love you more than anything Pops, always will.
Love Always,
Bop