An Unsent letter
Dear Eddie,
There are words we say and words we hide and whatever is kept hidden paves the path to regret. When I was of your age Eddie, I had already learned 3 languages and had a not-so-bad track record in academics. I’m not boasting about my learning skills to you but just wanted you to know that whenever you messed up with your academics, I could have expressed my disgust in several languages, although I stuck with the one you understood most. Maybe what I couldn’t express to you effectively was how much I loved and cared for you. All the languages out there and still I fell short of words when you were around.
Maybe that is the way how fathers are. Maybe that is what is expected from us.
Do you remember the day Eddie, when I refused to get you your favorite bicycle? It was your 5th birthday. Your Mom had prepared that chocolate cake for you. I still remember that excitement on your face. Oh Eddie, how a charming kid you were. I still remember how that euphoria on your face faded away when you found out that I hadn’t got you any. I know a toy car is no replacement for a fully functional bike but that other kid in our neighborhood had broken his rib when he fell off his bicycle and I got skeptical that you are too young for that. Probably, I might have underestimated your skills in handling a bike but if there is one in a millionth chance of you getting hurt, I still would not take any. You didn’t talk to me for days and I found that amusing. Your anger was completely justified but that toy car didn’t deserve that throw either.
That day when I bought you that “uncool” maroon sweater, I wanted to answer your question differently but for some reason, I couldn’t. When you asked, “What on earth made you buy this uncool junk?” I wanted to tell you that I overheard you telling your mom that maroon is your favorite color and how you would love a woolen of the same color. I didn’t buy that junk Eddie because it was cheap. I bought that because I thought that will make you happy. That sweater is still in my cupboard and how I wish you could wear it once.
You were a fighter Eddie, whenever life put you down, you fought back and proved yourself a winner. I knew about your college backlogs, no matter how surreptitious you were about it. I am also aware of how you took the maths paper of your 2nd semester as a challenge and cleared the backlog with record break marks. You overcame every challenge like a hero but Oh dear son, was the life ahead so cruel? Were the burdens so huge that you broke down? What made you think you were alone in all this? Your uncool dad was always there for you.
Do you know how that bully in your class all of a sudden became docile? I disciplined him. No one can bully my son, I told him. Dear Eddie, I know life can be tough at times and heroes like you never accept defeat but Oh son why couldn’t you give it a one more fight? One more thought and you could have been around, maybe wearing that maroon sweater and riding your favorite motorbike. How I wish I could tell you son that suicide was not the answer.
Lots of Love,
Your uncool dad.
P.S: Normally I write about Data Science and Statistics but having a change this time.
Editorial Insert: If you are experiencing thoughts of suicide or self-harm, we encourage you to contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1–800–273-TALK (8255). This lifeline is free and confidential. It is open 24 hours a day and provides support, information, and local resources to anyone in suicidal crisis or emotional distress and those around them. Call for more information or visit www.suicidepreventionhotline.org.
