Meet the Author's Author

Meet the Author's Author
Live for Jesus! That's what matters! That you see the light in me and come along! :)

Friday, May 27, 2011

To My Father

Dear Daddy,
I guess I'm kinda stuck on what to say. Because right now, what I'm seeing is a dual personality. I know Mommy said you were like this from the first, but I guess I never saw you like that.

This is one of the most painful things I've ever tried to write. Because I know that you'll never see it; because I know Mom would hate it. I try to bottle up about you, because if my feelings don't align with everyone else's, they get misunderstood or condemned.

They say that every little girl believes her Daddy is a knight in shining armour. I never was fool enough to believe that, and as our fights, verbal and nearly physical, worsened over the last three/four years, my respect for you went to zero. I remember telling my brother at thirteen that it was over, that your lives were your lives and we had to fight our own courses now. I became brokenly independent to some degree; Joseph started fighting.

I'm watching these letters in which you're accusing Mom of stealing her belongings, saying she is capable of criminal acts; watching you change the locks, make no attempt to find out how we are, get along with your life just fine. Why, Daddy? Even after I wrote you that letter, you made no attempt to respond to me. All you could say was, "I wasn't pleased with the content of the letter." You accused me of disrespect. Daddy, I spoke from my heart...I want to love you and be proud of you so much.

I always was a Daddy's girl...until I got old enough to understand the other side. Suddenly you went from being the misunderstood and abused one to being part of the cause. I remember receiving complaints and trying to give comfort to both sides. And wishing I could mend it, a little.

I never thought what you did was wrong. I don't guess I ever thought about it. I mean, I hadn't got anything to compare it to. And it was only a random searching for conversation that made me ask my friend that day. Then I found out about Sam. And the other stuff.

Somehow I can't associate all this with the Daddy who used to tuck me in, buy me sausage rolls when just you and me went out, who I could pout and you'd buy me a bag of sweets.

I'm crying now as I'm writing. Great, big salty tears rolling one after the other silently down my face. If you saw them, Daddy, would you care? I can't believe how selfish I'm seeing you.

I saw you three times. Twice I shrieked your name involuntarily and reached out to you - and Daddy, you didn't see me, and you didn't care. It's kinda representative of all our life, isn't it, Daddy? You never were there for Jose. I see in the way he goes from man to man - even guys his own age - even through his distorted condition - he goes searching for a man who he can look up to and respect. Me, I guess I spent all my time wasting it looking for a protector. You protected me - in the wrong way. And never loved me or Jose the way we needed to be loved.

It's kind of an accusatory letter, too, isn't it, Daddy? I don't know. So many mixed up...I'm swiping a hand over my tearstained cheeks and thinking of you on the computer tonight, like you've been on and off ever since. Or sleeping peacefully, ready to start building your life again when all this is over. But Daddy, it will never be over.

How can you put us away so easily? Mommy saw you in town. You were laughing, happy, smiling, with your brother and sister, in a way you've never been with us.

I'm so tempted to think the last twenty years have been a waste, Daddy. Except I know that God wanted me here. Why He wanted me here as produce of a hated and broken marriage, I don't know. But I know He brought me here to glorify His name - and no matter where I come from, He loves me.

He's the only Father I have now. I guess this is goodbye, since you voluntarily rendered yourself more dead to me than death. I cannot even grieve at a graveside. Only in my heart.

Dishes. Late nights. Computers. Joseph. Temper. The chickens. Locking us out.

Sausage rolls. Laurel and Hardy. Westerns. Hot chocolate. Cheese on toast. Scat. The birds you used to rescue.

The last time we locked eyes. I will never see you again, when this is over.


Oh Daddy...I could've loved you so much if you'd let me.

Your daughter,
Sian