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A letter to my father
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A letter to my father |
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themute Member
since 2006-05-08
Posts 469Maryland 
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Dad, Because I have lived with you for the past two years, I have neglected to buy you a gift. The reason being that I would rather give the person that: I’m sharing my problems with, I’m sharing my dream-time with, I’m sharing my life with, a gift that will mean something more than physical gratification, or material joy. I would rather give you something more sentimental and meaningful. So, I have decided to give you my thoughts; my apologies, my loving thanks, my forgiveness, my conflict, my promises. I’m sorry that sometimes I get really shitty with you sometimes. I’m sorry that I smoke even though I know you don’t like, and don’t want me to—though, I don’t do it often, and I don’t like it that much, but I do think that I’m addicted and I do think that I’ll stop eventually (I don’t want to be a smoker when I’m old. I’m sorry that I don’t thank you enough when I know I should, or that I don’t respect you as much as I should, but I think that its because I’ve always had a disagreement with that kind of an idea—shitty thing to disagree with isn’t it, because respect is integral to truly loving someone. Anyway, I’m sorry that I forget to call you when you ask me to, I think its because I don’t always have your interests in mind (which I’m not sorry for) and that I sometimes get caught up in the moment that I’m in and forget the stuff that happened before: what I’ve been told, where I’ve been, what I had done previously. I’m sorry for not saying I’m sorry Dad. Thank you for your confidence. Thank you for keeping me safe from my mothers’ cage (I love her), a place where I would never grow, where my writing would never have its privacy. Here what I write is unread, unless I call you to it to show you; where the words aren’t challenged and your words aren’t false, or over-praising, exaggerated. Thank you for driving me all these years, the days when you didn’t have to do anything, but took me where I wanted because you wanted me to be happy. I love you Dad, because you actually do what you know will make me happy, instead of thinking it over because your not sure if what you’re about to do will cost you money, or take you too much effort. You would do them because you know that if you do, I will love you, because when it comes down to it I will ponder the measure of deeds and the weight will go in your favor, but the balance of love sways without lies or actions for an end. I thank you for giving me what I want, and thank you for helping me with boosts of your confidence, and support, and concern. Thank you for being a father—late as you may be—that doesn’t act like he judges, but does, thank you for being someone that looks over my shoulder and tries to interfere instead of letting me mess up—so I can get things done. Thank you for being my father, my parent, and my friend (though it isn’t a peer’s kind of friendship, and I wouldn’t suggest you let that statement get to your head. I forgive you for being a hypocrite when you are angry at mom even though you take large amounts of money and put it in the bank so you can save it for god knows what, and an Episcopalian—I’m serious—when you try to find community in a bunch of people that most likely don’t know what the true love of another human being really is, nor true sensitivity, I mean Jesus (though, I will admit, some of them are nice; they still don’t know who they are or why they even believe in their form of god in the first place, and they most likely haven’t really thought about what real god is, instead they choose ignorance by following the deity, Jesus. I for give you for not always getting the right kind of food that I like sometimes (its not a big deal anyway. I forgive you for not knowing how to talk to me about what you’re really thinking, and be real with me, its kinda hard for me too. I don’t approve of the relationship you have with mom. I don’t care you both say that you hate each other with a all your will, you both shared twenty years, I hope that that means something, I think that means something. The both of you need to get off your pedestals that keep you both as far away from the other, so you can look at the memories of everything you both did to each other, I want you both to come down and forgive each other because you used to love each other, platonically or not. I don’t agree with your being in a religion that doesn’t agree with who you are as a human being; the fact that the people like you doesn’t matter, I think that because the religion, the law, the truth of its standing, is that if you are not straight, that you will go to hell. This is what you are following religiously, why, because you always have? Dad, why don’t you break from organized religion and be yourself around people, not an idol of good spirit and will because if you do you will be seen as a good example. Be yourself. I will say this dad, if you keep your father-ship for me as true a bond as is now, I will forgive you, I promise this. I promise that I wont let myself go to waste—I really don’t know how I’m going to make it when I’m a real man, on my own, and really living life as a person instead of a dependant or a child—on the streets of California or god knows where, with the bums or with the dirty people that look at you like a dog does, without any real emotions. I promise I’ll get myself right, and that I’ll find true love in a woman that wont just lead me on or hurt me. I promise to never forget what you’ve done for me. I promise I’ll try a little harder to keep my room clean, and I promise to tell you what I’m thinking more often; Like that even though I don’t know that I love you in the same way that I love mom, I still do, I just don’t find it right to tell you because it feels awkward for me, as I believe it does for you. I promise to show you more respect, maybe take more consideration to your words, to thank you for the little things more often like how you make me lunch, or take out my trash, or how you don’t mind my being alone to either masturbate, or to legitimately be alone for a while. By the way, I’m sorry that you don’t get to do that very often, honestly I don’t want to really know about it. That’s one of the ways our friendship is different, I mind if you tell me your sex life. I’m sorry also that I don’t want to get involved in your social life; I don’t feel comfortable in that kind of situation. I promise to be more caring person, I now know how important that can be. I will ask about your relatives more, and I’ll ask how your friends are, I will ask you how you’re doing more, and I’ll make sure to do things that you will appreciate, that maybe I wont. I also promise to go to more events with you, Jesus I’m such an jagov I’ve not gone to one thing with you ever, but I will now, maybe not all the time, but for some. I hope that you appreciate this gift dad. Did you think about crying Dad? If you did then I’m glad that you got to on this day. I’m glad that I get to spend Christmas with you one more time after this, and I’m glad that you got to hear my thoughts, —my real ones—not many have before. Dad, have a marry Christmas. I love you dearly, I am the two-toed wanderer |
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| © Copyright 2006 Matthew Patrick Holbert - All Rights Reserved | |||
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
so much said there Matt..I hope your dad read it and could feel the love you have for him... M |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
There comes a time when you see how important a family is...and if you do your part to form a relationship, you have succeeded...James |
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