A Letter to My Half-Sister

I haven't written for a while because I had the feeling that you were sorry that you had written and that you might have been more comfortable not knowing me. If that's true, it's okay. I get it. I really do. You loved our father. Ken's and my existence question a lot of what you knew about him. I have a lot of unresolved feelings about him that I am working on, but I don't think he was a bad person. I've done a lot in my life that I regret. I'm sure that he regretted how he handled us; or, rather, how he didn't handle us. That's not meant to be bitter. It's just the truth.

I don't think I told you, but he came to see Ken and me when we moved back to Florida, about '72, '73. Ken called him. When I came home from school he was there. We didn't talk much; he didn't stay long. He asked me if I knew why Ken had called him. I was trying to be cool, be grown up. I said no, I didn't know, that we were fine. I regret, very much, that I didn't tell him the truth. That Ken called him because he wanted to know his father.

If you want to drop the connection, it's okay. You don't have to write back. But I didn't want to just drop the line of communication without letting you know why.

Take care,