I have received numerous submissions for this Internet/book project, and it is my sincere hope that I will receive hundreds, or even thousands more. "I Never Got to Say..." submissions have been divided into categories (i.e. "Handwritten Entries," "To Parents...," "To Extended Family...," etc.) which are located on a links list on the left.
Entries are still being accepted. Your submissions can be made anonymously or you can include your name. Please note that if you send your submission to me via private e-mail, Facebook or Twitter message, you need to specify whether or not you would like your name to be attached. However, I will include the author's name on submissions made publicly via blog, Facebook, or Twitter comments Submissions can be handwritten or typed if mailed to me. Entries can vary in length, however I reserve the right to take excerpts from them.
I encourage you to take part in this Internet/book project. Working on this project has helped me channel my grief over my mother's passing into something positive. I hope that writing your "I Never Got to Say..." messages will bring you the same peace.
-Kimberly Back
I wish I had stopped that night. I did not know you were flickering the porch light for me to come back. I had come to you that night Peepaw because I had no where else to go. Darn that camper being in the way of me seeing the porch light go on and off. You wanting me to come back and I did not see you. It was late I thought you were a sleep. I think to myself now, if only I had seen you, if only I had gotten out of the car and just knocked. I would have been there and maybe I could have helped you. Your heart was sick and no one knew. I wished I had called a few times Peepaw just to talk to you. I wish I had told you I loved you so much more than I did. You gave me strength Peepaw. You were the most generous man. You lived your life for Jesus and now I understand. I love you Peepaw. I am so sorry I did not say good bye. Please forgive. I miss you so much.
ReplyDeleteEven though I was only 10 years old when you passed away, I still remember your face, your smell, the way you always bantered with Mamaw but always with love. I'll miss those many times that you would balance me and my cousin on your legs and bounce us up and down and I'll never forget the powerful sermons that you would give every Sunday. I may have been young when you left me, but you are one of my greatest inspirations and I wish that I could have realized then that carrying your name is a great honor. I wish that I could have talked to you on the turning points of my life to get your opinion, or to just go fishing with you and talk about how the Wildcats were doing. I aspire to be like you, to be like my Papaw, who was always a man of God first but always shared his love with his family.
ReplyDeleteYou hurt me. Not just by dieing and leaving me so suddenly but from the years of abuse I survived. So many times I wished you would die... sitting alone in my room and willing it to happen. I thought you deserved it. I didn't realize that for some reason... I would miss you, miss the opourtunity to ask you "why?"... Why Daddy? Why?
ReplyDelete