The Row

Poetry. Writing. Photography

I remember looking at my father and wanting to understand him after ten years of not seeing him. I was deadened, for the first time I had nothing to feel but a part of me wanted to give him the chance to make it right. All he had to say was I am sorry and acknowledge my pain, but he couldn’t give that to me. No one around me allowed me to feel how I was supposed to feel. I’ve never felt validated and I’ve grown to become scared of my feelings. I deserved an apology. I felt beaten, embittered, hurt and destroyed, and he was oblivious and in denial that his absence has affected me in many ways. He’ll never admit he was wrong, because he’ll never think he was, it’s easier to place blame on others then to confront your mistakes. And I’ll never understand it. I keep making excuses for him and his circumstances, but it still won’t ever justify his silence. Maybe, he was overwhelmed by life, and he started a new family and maybe, he didn’t know how to place my sister and me in it. I will never forget how big his heart is, he was a good a man. You know, I always knew my parents weren’t happy together, they didn’t belong to each other and we always knew they weren’t going to end up together. My mother basically has always done all the work, she has been everything to us, and when they finally got divorced, I didn’t think my sister and me would go through it too. We didn’t see him for a very long time, I had twelve surgeries and I always dreamed he would come like superman and somehow that would take my pain away but he never showed up, and he never called. He was supposed to be my hero, but he was always a no-show. I deserved to call him daddy, run to him and have a relationship with him. I feel so damaged as a daughter and a woman. He just wasn’t there physically or emotionally, and I am still living with the effects of the chaos, and I am afraid that I always will.

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