Sept. 13: You don't know what you gave up

 Dear Mr. Man

You know, I don't hate you. If I saw you on the street, I wouldn't yell at you or cuss you out, but I don't think I'd shake your hand. But I do pity you, man. You don't know what you gave up.

She's going to be a funeral director, did you know that? Yeah, she's going to be a mover and shaker, hitting the big time. She'll have a good job and she'll never be out of work because she's in an industry that will never die (you should pardon the pun.) 

Sure, she had her challenges growing up, but what girl doesn't. Things made her cry. Sometimes, I'm sad to say, I was one of those things. But all I can say is the good times outweigh the bad. I hope she agrees with that.

You see, Mr. Man, I have a whole lot of great memories with her.

This one time, I tried to take her down to Cleveland so we could see a Major League Baseball game live. But we couldn't get into the States so instead, we went to Niagara Falls and we had a grand old time.

And this other time, I splurged and bought her One Direction concert tickets for her 12th birthday. I still remember the look on her face when she opened that envelope. She had to wait seven long months for that concert. I remember driving her and a friend to Montreal and pretending that my car wouldn't start, but she didn't believe me for a second.

And this one time, she wanted a fancy iPhone and she wasn't going to be happy with a cheaper model and I knew the real reason she wanted it was so she could impress her friends at school, so I splurged again.

I got to be there for all the milestones. I got to see her graduate high school, I helped her pack for college, and I helped her move out when her schooling was up. I tried to teach her how to drive a standard transmission (that one wasn't successful, by the way.)

She's an amazing sister, a great daughter, and I have no doubt she'll make a fine wife for some lucky man one day. 

And sometimes, I think of you sort of standing in the shadows of our lives, lurking in the background, maybe regretting that decision you made all those years ago. 

But time has marched on and if you were to resurface now, you would probably be treated like a stranger. I doubt you would be insulted, but you wouldn't be particularly welcomed either.

Yeah, so you don't know what you gave up.

No worries, though, because the other side of that coin is that you also don't know what you gave me.