Dear Dad

Dear Dad,

One of my most distinct memories of my childhood is one of me accompanying you to the hospital for your daily rounds. I recall the love and esteem you received from your patients and coworkers. I also recall the comments I received from them; “Oh how adorable, you look just like your father!” and “Do you want to be a doctor like your daddy?” My answer was always the same: “I want to be just like my dad!” Years have passed and it may seem that my dream of being just like you has withered, but I’m writing this letter to tell you that it hasn’t.

When I was little you were my hero; I would run to hug you every day when you got home from work, and I would call you specifically to show every accomplishment of mine however small. Over time this faded, and I grew apart from you.

Your foray into drinking bothered me since as Muslims we are forbidden from consuming alcohol. Your hours spent at work increased and we grew extremely distant from each other. You changed and I began to dislike more and more about you, which led to all the arguments. I was convinced that you and I could never live in the same house peacefully. Eventually, I resolved that I truly hated you and refused to speak to you for various periods of time. I believed I didn’t really have a father figure in my life, that I didn’t need one. Even when you stopped drinking, began to take our faith seriously and made attempts to be more of a father to me, I still resented you.
Then last year, I began to focus more on studies and you started to regularly work entire weeks at the hospital. I grew used to being alone much of the time, having late dinners alone with mom, not seeing you for days at a time and not knowing when you would be home. However, when you were home I noticed that the problems we had before weren’t present, but I was still holding you against who you were without giving you a chance to show whom you had become. I started to open up to you little by little. We talked and discussed my plans for the future, and I began to value your guidance once again. I realized that all our similarities, however trivial, are the results of my inner strive to be like you.
So many things about us, like the way we look and dress, carry conversation, and work endlessly to achieve our goals, are identical. I wear button down shirts tucked into jeans, a leather strapped watch, and a pair of suede oxfords; typical physician attire. I work meticulously on schoolwork until everything is perfect, and I’m bent on keeping all my belongings organized; much like how mom describes your college self. When I got my license I even claimed your sports car as mine. All these things convince me that I am slowly becoming more and more like you. I now accept that you are my father and that your influence on me is and always will be profound.

Through all of the times I conflicted with you and all the times we gave each other trouble I never gave up my dream of being a doctor. You may have been at fault for some things, but I was always the first to argue and therefore equally guilty. I truly am sorry for being so impatient with you. Those times taught me that I have to give everyone a chance, and now I have more patience with everyone around me. You’ve given me strength because I know I have the influence and guidance of someone great.
Sometimes I tell others that mom’s ophthalmologist background is what influenced me, but deep down I know that our trips to the hospital when I was little are really what make me want to be a physician. You still are my hero dad, and I will be proud to one day be referred to as you are; Dr. M—–.

Love,
S—