November 25, 2018

Dear Peter,

when you died, it opened my eyes. I really wish I acted more maturely when I saw you when I was at your house. I know that in fact, you weren’t scary, you were just really miserable. You were depressed, and I should’ve seen that and understand, because of all people, I should know what a depressed parent looks like. I know that when I was a child, my behaviour could be excused, but not now. I shouldn’t have acted the way I would when I came to your house, like you were creepy and I was afraid.
Your wife misses you greatly. When I came to visit my best friend for the first time after you died, her mom was there, and you could see how much her face has changed. She looked older, so much older, as if she became old overnight. I acted dumb and unnaturely because it was such a shock to see her that way. She would smile with her mouth, but her eyes had this blank stare.
Sara acts normal around me. It’s really weird, but she really doesn’t show that much emotion. She has buried it inside her and hopes it will stay that way forever. I don’t know how to help her, so I just talk about stupid stuff and screw up a lot, like I start talking about my own dad or a stuffed animal she has on her bed. I really think I’m not helping even though I try. But there is this gap between your daughter and me – she has gone through a lot more pain than me, but she doesn’t show it, which is hard for me to understand as I am very bad at hiding my emotions. She has photos of you on her nightstand.
I still cried when you died. She most definitely did, too, but we don’t talk about it.
I know you probably didn’t really like me, nor the other way around, but I’ll try to be your daughter’s best friend she could have, even though the gap between us grows stronger every day.
Your wife and daughter will make it, though. They’re a lot stronger than my mom and I.
I am sorry that I am so bad at helping your family. I promise I’ll try harder.

Your daughter's best friend
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