My Father

My father and I haven't had the best of relationships as far as father's and daughter's are concerned. My parents split when I was in the second grade. The night that did it all in was my mother pouring out my father's whisky into the sink and him hauling off and hitting her into a corner until we called my aunt and her boyfriend (we called him our uncle). They came over and my uncle beat the shit out of my dad and from that day on we only went over there on Sundays and didn't have to go after the age of 14 per the judge.

I can remember going to school in the third grade, standing in the bathroom stall debating on telling the teacher about the bruise on my leg the size of a frisbee and the one below it the size of a baseball bat that I got for not eating my green beans. I have never really been close to him for him hurting my mother or me. Neither of my parents have been decent parents for most of the 20 something years they have aquired the title.

Now, as I get older, I am trying to slowly rebuild my relationship with him. Over the past few years/months with my sister and thugboy my father has really pushed away from my sister, his favorite child. I cried on the way home tonight after I bought him dinner, seeing his pain dealing with her not letting him see A because thugboy says since we don't accept and respect (Yes, he wants RESPECT folks! Well, he can hope for respect in one hand and shit in the other and see which one fills up first.) he won't allow my dad be apart of A's life.

I am mad that I can't give my parents a grandchild to love and not to have to worry about whether or not they will get to see him/her. I am mad that A may not grow up knowing some people that cry to sleep thinking about her and hoping she has a good life and want the best for her. But I will stop here. I am tired of ranting about my sister and thugboy. I wish I could mentally block myself away from them, but it's a battle I am losing. How can you look at that baby and NOT want to fight for her?

Anways, I cooked chili a week or so ago and brought some over to my fathers house, and tonight, I cooked steak, potatos, mac&cheese, and rolls and took it to him as well. We are going to dinner tomorrow night for a Christmas dinner thing for M, my father, and myself. I haven't bought him anything really but I think the meals have provided more than any boxed item could have. It's a start, to hopefully a better path between father and daughter.

I don't forgive him for what he's done to me in the past right now, maybe one day, when I can look in the mirror and truly love myself, I will learn to forgive those who have hurt me the most.