"For my Dad"

I had been listening to some music and was about to leave for a few days when I began to think about my Dad. He has been gone for thirty years now but he left behind an indelible impression on all of us, some good and bad. I really can't say what my siblings feel about him now that so many years have come and gone since his passing. All I know for sure is how I feel and that's what really matters.

There were twelve of us kids all together, six girls and six boys. My Dad had made his exit not long after I was born. I never really knew why and my Mom never wanted to discuss it. I was left on my own to figure out why. No one really had the nerve to ask. They never divorced. They just stayed seperated for all those years, although, he did come around from time to time to pay us a visit. My older siblings, mainly my sisters, have carried a real hatred for the man. It's was so bad that one said she wouldn't piss on him if he were set on fire. He wouldn't be worth the effort.

I can't speak for anyone else but me. I last saw my Father a little over two years before he died. He was in need of a place to stay. I was sharing a place with two more of my brothers at the time. I had found myself caught up in all this animosity that had engulfed my family. I remember he and I getting into some small argument, and probably over some penny ante bullshit, but what I do remember without question and word for word, the last thing I had ever spoken to him. I said, "You know what? Everytime I look at you I see myself and I don't like what I see!" I regretted saying it the very second I finished saying it, but I never took the opportunity to take it back. It really hit home what I had said when I learned of his death two years later. He had died alone, truly alone.

My father had never been around much in my childhood but I did live with him a few short times, usually during the summer. He never abused me or anything like that. He was just not around much. While I was with him, he treated me like a Father in those days should. We had our chores to do. But we also had our play time. There was also the discipline that comes with being a parent. I knew I loved my Father, no matter what because he loved me, no matter what.

I never had the chance to take back what I said. God knows I wish I had been given the chance. I lived with this self-inflicted heartache for most of my adult life and it still haunts me from time to time, like today. I knew of only one  to make up to him what I had said, if I had been asked what I wanted to be when I grew up when I was a child, I would have answered, "a good Father". That had always been my first and most important dream. The second was to be a good husband, but I failed at that miserably, a "whole 'nother chapter" that may or may not be written down on paper.

I believe with all my heart that I had achieved my dream. It had come true. I thank God for that, for He was my Father who was always around, but I also must thank my earthly Father, too. I will, more than likely, be forever apologetic towards my Father for what I had said to him that day. It's hard to forgive yourself for any reason, but to not have the forgiveness of the one you have hurt, for any reason, is like a living hell.

I created the above video especially for my Dad a few years ago. I hope he approves. I love you, Dad! I always have and I am sorry for hurting you.