An open letter to my dad AKA I'm
still trying to forgive myself for that
There are so many things I'm good at. I
probably don't know it yet. Like how long it took me to write this
letter. Exemplary procrastinator. First in our family to graduate
college. You used to say how proud you were of me. It was the only
thing I believed. It made everything else seem okay. Like the time I
tried to sneak in and found you standing at the door at 5am. Confused
anger with worry or maybe it was the other way. I didn't pick the
mechanic. Better now I didn't. Hasn't seen his kid since she hit
double digits. I quit teaching in college and picked a career I
can't find a job in. My days are spent writing when they should be
spent job hunting. When I think of the future you have laid out for
me, more lump in my throat than butterfly belly, I'm so sorry. Our
conversations were at best, encouraging. Lately I feel you have given
up on me. The way the silence sits and I cant even tell if I'm
listening to you paying more attention to the television or
disappointment. Your voice... distant. Like the wait for a lost dog
to find its way home. You used to reassure me that my time would
come. Now you look at me like the flier torn from the telephone pole.
There's no hope. All the birthdays I asked what you wanted and still
showed up with nothing. My false intentions. You didn't deserve them.
It makes me embarrassed. I'm sorry I'm not like your friend's kids.
It's easier for you to avoid conversations because you cant find
anything positive. Sometimes surviving is a daunting task. You have
to be able to understand that Dad. I know things were different. You
worked so hard for a living. Here I'm am standing wet cement admiring
my surroundings. You wonder why I never listen. I'm listening, trying
to figure out what this all means. So much more struggle than
success story. Who I am. Who I've been. Dear Dad, I'm sorry I'm
everything you never imagined. All this time learning valiant. There
are so many things I'm good at. I probably don't know it yet. I'm
still trying to forgive myself for that.
No comments:
Post a Comment