Dear Daughter

Dear Daughter,

Last week you told me you believe I “don’t get” how painful it was for you to grow up missing the amount of warmth, love, and admiration you felt you desperately needed. I told you I understood, and I offered to go to therapy with you, which you weren’t comfortable with.

What I didn’t tell you, my dear, is how many tears I’ve shed knowing I fell short in this vital piece of my raising my children. What I didn’t tell you is that Hashem gave me a tremendous nisayon and that I spent most of your childhood in survival mode.

Five years into our marriage, when you were just three years old, Tatty went into deep depression and was subsequently diagnosed with OCD, anxiety, and depression. Our marriage was shaky, and with the advice and encouragement of gedolim, I chose to do the best I could to raise you and your siblings, while dealing with an absentee husband who needed a huge amount of patience and care.

Our challenges lasted many, many years. To Tatty’s credit, he spent years in therapy (as did I) and was consistent with taking his medications, and baruch Hashem he’s now a healthy and loving father. Although you may have been exposed to his many outbursts of frustration and anger, I tried everything possible to shield you from what was going on. Our marriage was tested on a daily basis. Several times I reached out to gedolim and professionals when I felt I couldn’t carry this burden one day longer. We all agreed that you children would still be better off in a two-parent home, especially since things were improving (it was one step forward, two steps back for many years) and your father really loved you all deeply, but had his handicaps.