Everyday I hold on to this invisible thing we as humans call hope. I wake, I look at your photos. Some of them with the family we had together some of them with just you and I. Please know I think of you every day and every night. There hasn’t been a days since your mother told me she didn’t want to be my wife or to have me in our family anymore that I haven’t worried about you and your sister. There hasn’t been day since those words were uttered that I haven’t cried and hoped you’d find me. I don’t understand why we can’t have a life together. Sadly lots of families experience divorce and they still keep close. Why did our family not deserve that chance. So many people have judge me unfairly during times where I was not capable of making good choices. I was either way beyond knowing what to do or so pumped full of chemotherapy and radiation treatments for cancer that I couldn’t think or properly care for myself. Unfortunately I didn’t have people to take care of me. I couldn’t take care of myself. The combination of the Parkinson’s, the shock of the divorce and then the cancer was to much for me as man , a human being, a father, brother and friend to bare alone. The judgement passed on me by my peers was harsh and unforgiving. Since those days I’ve removed myself from the equation. I live a simple life now. The mountain has been good to me. I garden, raise a few animals and go about my day like this is all what was supposed to happen, though I know it wasn’t. There are days it feels like I woke up in a different life. Like the timeline I was on ruptured and I woke in another. One where I wasn’t happy and healthy.

One where my life had been torn apart from inside out. I don’t know why we don’t speak or share life. Hope, hope is what I have to hold onto. My body and mind are failing more and more quickly, I hope in your life you realize that I never stopped loving you, missing you or needing you in my life. I was literally kept away from you by the wealth of the family and their ability to out do anything and everything I could do. On that I hope you are well and thriving in whatever your life has in-store for you. I love dearly Andersen Prewitt.

Benjamin, your father.