Letter To My Real Dad

Posted on May 6, 2007

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Racing thoughts pass through my mind,
visions of a happier time. Happier you ask?
Why, yes is my reply.

Years ago when I was young,
when I was without a care.
Before the age of six when my world was fine.
Up was up, right was right. When I didn’t fancy flight.

It was easier, simplier then.  Everything was as it should be.
A little house with a family,
a momma and a daddy to tuck us in at night.

It all changed without worry of how we’d fare.
It didn’t matter what would we care.

No one asked if I wanted to move,
no one asked me what I wanted to do.
I suppose I would’ve begged for you to stay.
But that choice wasn’t mine. You took it away.
With borrowed hopes and dreams you dashed.

You and momma couldn’t make it work.
She took us and you took a shirt.
(A fair trade?)
You stayed gone for so long,
you missed it all. You didn’t even know number three.
He would come after you flee.

We were forced to move ahead,
not much time to remember. Growing up instead.

Late at night when it was quiet,
and all was in bed. I would wonder where you were.
(Did you even think of us?)

When I was twelve maybe thirteen,
I got this notion in my head
that I would look for you.
Someone I remember had said
you moved back to Oklahoma.
So, I started there.
We had gone on a trip,
my first look was in the phone book.

I continued,  for some time. I scavanged through all mom’s things
for evidence of you. Some small token that would lead me to where you were.
I gave up not long there after.

I wouldn’t try again until I was seventeen. Now it seemed I was wiser,
I asked for assistance.  My grandmother was the sleuth,
she uncovered the truth.

You arrived as did I,
we didn’t know the other would be there.
I didn’t even get out of the car,
the door wasn’t even ajar.
Even now after all is done the choice was yours although I had begun.
When to see you should’ve been mine, but that decision you took this time.

After that weekend without seeing you I opted to call. We spoke a while, mostly chit chat.Nothing was said  about why you left as you did.
For a moment though it was just as it should be,
a daughter talking to her father. It was nice.
You wrote soon after,
the words you penned weren’t what I was after,
it was a disaster. I struck the match and burned your words.
I forgot and moved away faster.

Years later, in my twenties now.
I got a call,
it was mom she had cancer.
I was scared what if was all I could muster.
All I thought was I couldn’t bare,
at least one parent should be there.
I called you and you answered.
I told you not to speak my words you must hear.
You were kind and obliged. You let me talk and just listened.
It was finally my time. You agreed to meet with me,
so plans were made,
at the holiday it would be.

Things were different but the same.
Your mom still lived in the same small frame.
One thing was not as it should be, you brought her.
It was suppose to be just family,
but Sheila came.
Can’t you see she doesn’t like me?
She looks at me with such distain.

We had our visit,
we said our good-byes.
You promised you’d call that was a lie.
You had no intention at all.
It was I that would continue.
When I would call Sheila answered now,
she accused me wanting money,
but what I was after wasn’t at cost.
I just wanted what I had lost.
Although I was first,
Sheila and her girls had you now.
I was a memory they were reality.
I couldn’t be more than a passing glance,
it isn’t fair but that’s how it goes I suppose.

Now I am in crisis and could surely use a daddy’s hand to hold.
I’m scared I don’t know what to do. My mom doesn’t seem to care.
I told her what he did when I was just a kid. She’s still there.
Daddy, he hurt me!
The things he did would make you cry I nearly wanted to die.
I suppose a little I did. Her husband abused and misused
and still she takes his side I am so confused.

I’m all grown,
but to my core is that girl of just six crying loud to be rescued.
She needs her dad and he only ignores.

What am I suppose to do?

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Posted in: My Poetry