Dear Ixy

Hello Ixy,

How are you? I suppose that you are up to no good, as your father always was. Don’t cause your mother grief, as I have. You are the better version. So success comes easily to you.

We haven’t spoken yet. Your mum tells me that you are well and beginning to come to yourself. I never had a doubt. You were always going to be an adventurous child. You just need space to be you.

I want to tell you of your grandfather. I’ve not met a person with a bigger heart. He loves completely. And I am disgraced by the way I treat him. He thinks that it is intentional, but I quite think it subconscious. Something I fight every day. But he isn’t the simplest person to tell things. And I have always had problems communicating with him. Probably explains why I study him and he wonders about me. But he loves you. Regards of anything.

Your grandmother loves you too. She’s the only other person who can beat grandpa at love. I have no idea how they found each other. But they are a love couple. And they have stayed together through thick and thin. See, that’s important. Finding a love that never accepts defeat. It persists always and continues. Those two, my mistake, that one, is a perfect example. Don’t keep anything from them. They love beyond logic.

Your father, however is a tad different. He loves. He loves you. And his parents. But he’s a perfectionist who has let his OCD take him over past anything. As a result, he has resorted to alcohol to help him cope with an imperfect world. He has let it affect his faith, his family and everything in between. If anything goes slightly wrong, he requires an exit. And alcohol has promised, albeit without accurate results, that solution.

You are better than me. And you are my rest. I know that you are my saving grace. No doubt presented by a God that loves me but saving grace still. You have granted my life extension and hope. We have to do stuff together. Just as soon as I can get to you. You are perfection. And only in my eyes. You must find a standing in life, my dearest.

I love you, Phoenix Gasana Humura. And I have not given up yet. Dare you never to either. Where there is a will, there is a way.

I love you son. Now rest. Let’s talk later.

Love and kisses.

Bwogi Mark K Timothy a.k.a

Papa. 

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