The Hillbaley Ho Down & Extravaganza

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An Open (and Recurring) Apology to my Daughter

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You're still too young to realize your predicament but I have to get this off my chest before the guilt overwhelms me. This is the letter I thought I'd never have to write. But even at twenty-one months old, I can see it happening.

Your mother prayed for you. She prayed long and hard. I can still hear her voice, hoarse from pleading into the wee hours: "Please, God, spare her. I'll do anything if you'll just spare her. Do not curse her as you have cursed her father and his father before him. Please don't grant her the knowledge of what she is and deny her the ability to do anything about it. I've seen the horrific effects it has had on her father and I couldn't bear it if she were the same."

It pains me to see the change coming over you so soon, having gone through it myself. And it's all my fault. I knew there was a chance you would inherit this from me but I was too arrogant to take the threat seriously. I thought I could protect you and help you break free of the plight that has plagued our family for generations.

But even now, I know it is futile. I see it every time your eyes glaze over and you drift to that "special place" that I know so well. I see it when your brow furrows as you try in vain to understand a situation that is obvious to everyone else. I see it as you once again run face-first into a wall or put your foot in your mouth for the third time in as many seconds.

And for this, dear child, I am truly sorry. But the sooner you realize what you are, the better. I can barely bring myself to say the words but I must. Please remember that I will always love you no matter what happens.

It's time you learned the truth. Here goes...

You're part-Ukrainian.

May God protect you...