My Dad

A powerful post about child abuse.


To the man who beat me with a strap, came home drunk most every night, has never remembered my birthday, has told me time and time again that I am an idiot, held a gun to my head, abused my mom and my older brother, made sure I knew that I wouldn’t amount to anything, that I made stupid decisions. To the man who pulled me aside the day before we buried my brother and best friend who had just been murdered to tell me that it would have been easier if it had been me. To that man, my father, who in rare moments of playing “daddy” and being sober taught me to fish, to change a tire, to plant vegetables, what you’ve done in my past has made today pure torture. I hate you but I love you.

I have spent every Father’s Day trying to find that…

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