Dear John

Sami

March 26, 1993

Hi Daddy,

Why can't you be here? I wish my life was like it used to be, and you could make me pancakes, and coach my softball team. I wish that you could yell up the stairs, "Sami turn your music down!" or maybe you could yell, "Get out of the bathroom, Sami, because there are other people in this house!"...but you aren't my dad anymore. In my head you are my dad, you are always going to be my Dad. You were the one who took care of me that time I had the flu, and my fever got so high I had a seizure. You wouldn't even leave my side at the hospital. I remember your voice, and when I finally woke up, you cried. You were my Dad when Jeremiah Bradly pulled my hair and called me stupid, and I punched him. Remember? The school tried to suspend me, but you went there and got really angry, because Jeremiah didn't get suspended too. That's what Daddy's do.

Pops gets mad at me a lot. I'm so used to doing things the way you did them, but he gets frustrated if I mention you, or how things used to be. The rules are different, the chores are different, and if I say something or have an opinion, he says its 'back talk'. You always made me feel like my opinion mattered, even if we disagreed. Sometimes, with Pops, I just feel dumb. I tried to talk to Mom about it, but she tells me to try, and be understanding of where he's coming from. Why doesn't anyone try to understand where I'm coming from? I want to scream all the time, and I'm seriously thinking about going back to Colorado for school next year. At least Grandma and Grandpa Evans let me express how I'm feeling.

I know Mom means well, but it seems like she's always taking Pops side, and doesn't even try to understand me. Maybe she does, but I just get too angry to listen? I don't know. I feel angry a lot lately...really angry. I feel it building up inside, like I'm going to explode. When I used to feel like that you would talk to me, and calm me down. Sometimes when I yell, and scream, and slam my door...well, after that, I lay on my bed, and calm myself by remembering things you would say to me. When I go to bed sometimes, I try and imagine the hugs you used to give me. Those hugs where you wrapped both of your arms around me and I almost disappeared. Those were the absolute best hugs. I wish you were here, and I wish you were still my Dad.

Eric won't come home because of Pops. He told me before I left Colorado. I told him to come with me, to come home to Salem, and give Pops a chance, but he wouldn't do it. Now I wish I'd never come at all. I can't even see you anymore, plus lately Mom hasn't been feeling well, so I end up by myself a lot, because Pops is always at work.

I love you,

Sami