There are endless questions that fill my head about everything that you are. You can be a man of few words or a man with an endless monologue.
Growing up in a “poor” household, I can fortunately say I’ve had everything I needed and you made sure that I also received everything I wanted. The love you have for me is limitless, but so is your rage…
You’ve always been amazing. I think I was daddy’s little girl once upon a time, but time changes and things change. I grew up and you grow older.
I appreciate all the sacrifices you’ve made to come to America; where you and Mom struggled with learning the language, discrimination, and low finances. Somehow, someway, you did it. We were able to get out of the poverty phase and you put in an offer for the house by Bransford Elementary, where I attended K – 6th grade.
Did I ever tell you that I’m so proud of you? I am.
Another thing –
You’re a man’s man. You could fix anything under the freakin’ sun, but what you couldn’t fix is the relationship you have with Mom. You would think that with being a great father would mean you’re an equally great husband. But you are not.
Yes, you take care of us financially, but you are emotionally detached and I don’t know how to relate to you. I’ve seen you cry twice in my life… One at grandpa’s funeral and once when I went away for college.
I try to go back to your past to uncover stories that will let me understand your ways, but I’m learning that it’s not my place to be. I love you for who you are, but at times I do not like you… And rage then clouds my mind and I could only imagine what it does to you.
How can I love a man that loves me, but treats my mother like nothing?
I’ll never know.