The final part of this blog series. Tonight's submission comes from guest blogger Mandy, a writer and friend of mine. Enjoy...I did.
You were a superhero to me when I was a child.
I loved the way your eyes sparkled
and the beautiful music you made on the guitar.
You could do no wrong
(even though I rarely saw you and I never had my own space wherever you were living).
You made it easy for me to put the blame on my mother
(the one who raised three kids alone and put herself through college while she too was just a kid).
The woman you married made you look like a saint
(one who chokes children, chases them down the
driveway with bats and butcher knives, steals loads of money at your ex-wife's son's funeral
and hires a hit man to slice up her face -makes anyone look like a peach).
I always daydreamed of the day you would leave her.
She was the reason I didn't see you.
This woman
(the one who kicked me out in the middle of the night
in the dead of winter
after I had lost my brother)
was also so easy to blame.
I never once questioned why you didn't stop her from choking him.
I never once questioned why you let her kick me out of your house
(repeatedly)
In the middle of the night
in the ghetto
and didn't even drive me the two miles to the payphone
so I could call my mom.
I never once asked why you allowed her to call me horrible names
(like whore. stupid. loser. low-life)
at such a young age
(or any age, for that matter).
You were, after all, the innocent one.
Last year the unthinkable happened.
You left her.
Finally, I thought,
I would be able to go get coffee alone with my dad
for the first time in my life.
Finally you would get back together with the love of your life
(my mother, the one you called your best friend...and she was).
But there was something about the way you left that woman that didn't sit well with me
(or anyone else, for that matter).
This is the day I had dreamed about my entire life.
But then I never factored in that she
(that woman who did unspeakable things)
had a heartbeat and feelings that would get hurt...
and broken.
I didn't imagine that she would swallow a bunch of pills
and get very
very
sick.
And in those daydreams you never left her while she was strapped to a bed
in a mental hospital.
And I never once imagined that we would find out
that you had been living a double life since...
oh, forever
and that it would make all of the hardship we endured because of that woman
all the more painful.
I mean, really?
Really?!
You had a mistress this whole time?
You really weren't in love with my mom
even though you said that you were?
You could have left years and years ago.
Surely it wasn't your fault that you didn't know my children.
It was her fault you never called.
Her fault I didn't know you.
Her fault.
My mom's fault.
Anyone's...but yours.
One year later, I now know you were never the man I puffed you up to be.
You are...so...human.
So human
(and always have been).
You have missed out on my life and now the life of my children.
I have father issues now (which, really, I always did...but now I am painfully aware of them).
The way everything went down wrecked me.
And I have been mad.
So mad.
But I wanted to to tell you something.
I forgive you.
Do you hear me?
I forgive you.
I will be here when (if?) you ever decide you want to be my dad.
*Now that I am an adult, I see my dad for who he is -a broken man in need of a Savior. I choose not to be bitter. I cannot be angry with a man who has not yet been redeemed. There is still breath left in me and there is still breath left in him. I am praying for the day when my dad and I can make ammends. He is not perfect, but he is my daddy...and I love him.
Read more about Mandie at Jesus in Shanty Town
Photo credit to: http://larafairie.deviantart.com
Sing.
Migrate.
Thanks for reading...Z
You were a superhero to me when I was a child.
I loved the way your eyes sparkled
and the beautiful music you made on the guitar.
You could do no wrong
(even though I rarely saw you and I never had my own space wherever you were living).
You made it easy for me to put the blame on my mother
(the one who raised three kids alone and put herself through college while she too was just a kid).
The woman you married made you look like a saint
(one who chokes children, chases them down the
driveway with bats and butcher knives, steals loads of money at your ex-wife's son's funeral
and hires a hit man to slice up her face -makes anyone look like a peach).
I always daydreamed of the day you would leave her.
She was the reason I didn't see you.
This woman
(the one who kicked me out in the middle of the night
in the dead of winter
after I had lost my brother)
was also so easy to blame.
I never once questioned why you didn't stop her from choking him.
I never once questioned why you let her kick me out of your house
(repeatedly)
In the middle of the night
in the ghetto
and didn't even drive me the two miles to the payphone
so I could call my mom.
I never once asked why you allowed her to call me horrible names
(like whore. stupid. loser. low-life)
at such a young age
(or any age, for that matter).
You were, after all, the innocent one.
Last year the unthinkable happened.
You left her.
Finally, I thought,
I would be able to go get coffee alone with my dad
for the first time in my life.
Finally you would get back together with the love of your life
(my mother, the one you called your best friend...and she was).
But there was something about the way you left that woman that didn't sit well with me
(or anyone else, for that matter).
This is the day I had dreamed about my entire life.
But then I never factored in that she
(that woman who did unspeakable things)
had a heartbeat and feelings that would get hurt...
and broken.
I didn't imagine that she would swallow a bunch of pills
and get very
very
sick.
And in those daydreams you never left her while she was strapped to a bed
in a mental hospital.
And I never once imagined that we would find out
that you had been living a double life since...
oh, forever
and that it would make all of the hardship we endured because of that woman
all the more painful.
I mean, really?
Really?!
You had a mistress this whole time?
You really weren't in love with my mom
even though you said that you were?
You could have left years and years ago.
Surely it wasn't your fault that you didn't know my children.
It was her fault you never called.
Her fault I didn't know you.
Her fault.
My mom's fault.
Anyone's...but yours.
One year later, I now know you were never the man I puffed you up to be.
You are...so...human.
So human
(and always have been).
You have missed out on my life and now the life of my children.
I have father issues now (which, really, I always did...but now I am painfully aware of them).
The way everything went down wrecked me.
And I have been mad.
So mad.
But I wanted to to tell you something.
I forgive you.
Do you hear me?
I forgive you.
I will be here when (if?) you ever decide you want to be my dad.
*Now that I am an adult, I see my dad for who he is -a broken man in need of a Savior. I choose not to be bitter. I cannot be angry with a man who has not yet been redeemed. There is still breath left in me and there is still breath left in him. I am praying for the day when my dad and I can make ammends. He is not perfect, but he is my daddy...and I love him.
Read more about Mandie at Jesus in Shanty Town
Photo credit to: http://larafairie.deviantart.com
Sing.
Migrate.
Thanks for reading...Z
