“It is easier for a father to have children than for children to have a real father”~Pope John XXIII.
This is a letter to that father who left a void.
It’s been long since we last talked. I vividly remember the last time we did. I was only a little girl then. I had knocked my leg against your metallic chair and it hurt like hell. You swooped down and carried my little frail body into your arms. Crying and rocking with sobs like an old train, you patted my head and whispered that it was going to be okay. You smiled with the biggest smile you could muster and told me I would be fine. You blew against my little swollen ankle and said the pain would go away. I stopped crying because I trusted you. I feared pain then but I knew you would always be there to go through the pain with me. I still fear pain. You always knew how to allay my fears. You were my Samurai, my knight in shining armor. I was your little biscuit, your little doll.
Then you started to go away. It was a few days at first. Mom said it was a work trip. Then it became weeks and I didn’t see you often anymore. I had an accident late that year and I cried my heart out because I am so afraid of pain. And for the first time, you were not there to soothe the pain away. And then bigger, more terrible things happened. And you were still not there. I did not have anyone to tell my fears to anymore. Mom was too busy trying to make sure we had a roof over our heads and food to eat.
Growing up, I’ve craved for validation, for someone to love me unconditionally, and someone to call me beautiful with no strings attached. Someone to appreciate the woman I am growing into. Because of your absence I am angry, frustrated and I fear that any man that comes into my life will abandon me as you did.For so long I have hated and loved you both at the same time. I watched my friends with their fathers. I envied them. I longed for what they had.
I became quiet and reserved. I blamed myself for my circumstances. I prayed you would be more involved in my life again. I worked hard at school. I tried to be an exemplary child. Disciplined, hardworking, multi-talented, I hoped I would make you proud. However hard I worked, you never seemed to appreciate my efforts. You wanted me to do more, be more. And being human, I couldn’t. I failed. And it worsened our relationship. You saw me as a failure. In that time, I saw you for who you really were. To you, I was a trophy you needed for societal approval. I did not mean much to you. However, I was not the weak one, Daddy. I never was. You were. Our relationship has thrived whenever I have been successful. But when I failed,you turned away. You never really got to know me.
Do you know that I love listening to Ellie Goulding’s music? Or that I love to laze about in a couch deeply engrossed in banter? Do you know that I love to dance and talk animatedly like you do? Or that I squint my nose in the same way you do when I am irritated? I am in that stage in life where boys are “looking” at me. I once dated a bloke who broke my heart. It would have been so much more different if you were around to show me how to be a better judge of character. But I have picked up the pieces. Yes, there’s a piece of me that’s like you. Heck, I have your smile, your frown lines, the unmistakably dark finger nails, the chubby toes, the small eyes, the little ears and the sharp nose but I am really nothing like you. I am on a new path in my life and it is taking me to great places. I am fine. I am working on forgiving you. It is so hard. It is so darn hard. But I am going to try. Dear daddy, I have moved on without you.
~Don’t waste your time looking back for what you have lost. Forgive the past. Move on, for life wasn’t meant to be traveled backwards. Life is just waiting to happen~.