Letter to My Father

Dear Dad,
         This is probably the hardest letter for me to write. I have had so many feelings over the years about you, about our relationship, and what I could have done to improve it and make you see me in a different light.
         The fact that we've never been close has been the fault of both of us. I never knew how to walk through the "invisible wall" you built between us. I was afraid of you, and still am. How did you really feel when you found out Mom was pregnant? How did you feel when I wasn't a boy? How did you feel when you found out I had numerous medical problems? Did you really want to put me in an institution and forget about me?
         I know I've been a burden on you, and I'm sorry. I've tried to do the best I could in everything I've attempted. I only wish you would have taught me more. For the past forty-three years, I've been starved for your attention. I always seemed to get the negative type.
         I never asked you about your upbringing. I wanted to know things like: Did both of your parents spend time with you? Did either of them help you with homework? Did either help you get involved with extracirricular activities? How did each one discipline? Did one do most of the disciplining than the other? How were you treated since you were the second son? Maybe if I had asked these questions and received answers, they would have explained many things.
         The biggest question I have for you is:Why did you discipline so harshly? Why was I beaten with a belt? Were you beaten also? Also, why did you call me "Grandpa McCoy"? Did doing this make you feel better? It made me feel lousy, worthless, and ashamed of something I had no control over. You know the saying:Sticks and Stones will break my bones, but names will never hurt me"? Names DO HURT! Sometimes they hurt worse than someone beating the crap out of you. I could hardly wait for the day I would leave, never to return. At least I would have been liberated. A child's home is supposed to be its sanctuary, a safe haven. That didn't happen to me. Why was that? I thought as my father, you would protect me from the bullies and idiots of my immediate world. I feel like you dropped the ball in my case.
         When I moved out sixteen years ago, I know you thought I wouldn't make it. I did. Since moving out, I know I've made many mistakes. You were there to help. I thank you for that. When you offered to move me back home, after my first marriage broke up, I said no because I had already had roots here. When I remarried, you probably thought I was making another mistake. I don't think I have.
         What has really hurt the most is that YOU haven't wanted to spend time with Matthew. You didn't want to hold him the day he was born. This is your second grandson. Why was this? Don't you love MY son? I didn't have him to prove anything to anyone, least of all you. I had him because I wanted to be a mother. He is the most wonderful person in the world. He does have his faults, but I love him despite them. I will continue to do so the rest of his life. Unlike me, Matthew will receive UNCONDITIONAL love. That is what a mother-a parent is supposed to give her child. That is something I NEVER received from either one of my parents, and that is what REALLY HURTS!
          It also seems that when we talk lately, there is nothing to talk about. The only time you talk to me is when you want to tell me what I'm doing wrong. The one thing that you seem to not realize is that I was blessed/cursed with two brain injuries. Those are injuries I neither caused or asked for. STOP making me try to repair something that is PERMANENTLY out of order. Rereading this letter, I've noticed that the tone is of a daughter pleading. It sounds like someone begging for scraps. Scraps of what? If you don't want to have any type of relationship with me, that's fine. The one thing I will NEVER do is beg. I'm a human being, not a dog.
         I'm writing this through tears of frustration, anger, confusion, and bewilderment. I know you don't show your emotions, but my sincerest hope for us is to open the lines of communication and REALLY TALK!

Sincerely,

Denise-
{Someone you were forced to live with}