Stone Fox Bride

You taught me to make a fire. A budget. Pasta from scratch. Play baseball, you said, but I was like: Buzz off. You had a temper. You were tough. I said, “I got the lead in Oliver Twist.” You said, “Good, go take out the garbage.” You were Winston Churchill and Manischewitz; I was Winston cigarettes and rotgut red wine. You told me to study the classics in college, but all I did was drugs and dance. You were compound interest and clean your room and Kristalnacht; I was Kurt Cobain and cocaine and cutting class. But time made you tender. When I was 27, I stood in the kitchen with a knife to my wrist; you flew to New York with chicken soup and chocolate bars. When I was 32, we sat in rocking chairs and watched a lightning storm over Lake Michigan. I said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t always a good daughter.” You said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t always a good dad.” We both cried. — In honor of Father's Day, check out the letter I wrote to my Dad (who died this past January) on the website @modernloss. Link in profile! (And check out my personal account @mollyrosenguy where I've been penning letters to him for the past 169 days). xx