Never Again My Father's Day

Father’s Day has come and gone, just as it has for the past five years. I remember the times when you had been my inspiration, my support, and I was your pride and joy. In memory of the first half of my childhood, when I had been such a daddy’s girl, words have come to me so easily, of pain, loss, and confusion. Those have displaced all my memories prior to that night in North Carolina. I had been the happiest with you, all our adventures burned bright in my mind for weeks, as I bragged about you to my friends at school. “My daddy is so amazing.” My first ride in a big tractor as you worked on the farm. I sat in your lap and begged to steer; smiling, you let me. Making you sandwiches and running them to you as you passed by in the big truck, feeling proud and helpful. Our trips to the woods, sitting in the bucket of the tractor, trusting you completely. “Daddy, make the bucket go up and down again!” Holidays with family, I was adorable and innocent. Dressed up, my blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. I was so very shy. I hid behind your leg more often than my mother’s, because she was off talking to her friends, leaving me behind to fend for myself in a room of towering strangers. “Daddy, can we go home yet?” Family time in the living room at night, I clung to you. Pleading for a horsey ride, to be bounced on your knee. Mommy never did any of that, for she was always so tired after working. I admired you, always having the energy to play with me even after a long day at the farm. Writing in my school journal after an eventful weekend with you: “Daddy and I did so many things together.” My world shattered after one night. I no longer knew who you were. Something was horribly wrong. “Daddy? What are you doing?” The next morning, I looked at you in a different way. No one else around us knew what you had done, what you were probably thinking that very moment. I was alone. Years went by. When Mommy was busy and had a meeting late at school, after my brother already had gone to sleep, I was vulnerable. You came to me. I never understood why. I stayed silent, looking across the bed and seeing your rifles leaned against your bookcase. I had watched television shows about this, and I knew what people like you did when girls like me told the truth to someone. All it took was a spark of anger to set things right. I was furious at you, for yelling at me unjustly in front of Mommy and my brother. I stomped up the stairs and slammed the door to my room. Thinking to myself, What could I do to get even? Then it dawned on me. The punishment for infidelity and abuse. I wrote a note to Mommy, explaining everything and swearing on Grandpa’s grave that I was not lying. After you went to sleep, I found a sticker in my box of craft things and attached the note to your doorknob. You lay in the bed, completely unaware of your doomed fate. After Mommy came home from another meeting, I heard the sticker peel. I was waiting up, of course, ready to revel in my courage. I then heard hurried steps go down the stairs and shaking words whispered in to the phone. My heart sank. What had I just done? The last time I saw you and spoke to you, I had denied you the chance to speak to me as you sat on the couch with your wife, seated opposite our pastor. It was past midnight. I was tired and didn’t want you in my life anymore. I told you no, the first of a series of rejections that I had never been brave enough to give you when it mattered the most. I tried asking later, “Why did you do that to me, Daddy?” You never gave me a straight answer. With that, I shut you out of my life forever. I have since met the most amazing man who reminds me nothing of you. You will not be invited to our wedding. You will never see your grandchildren; you will never know where we live. You are as good as dead to me, because you betrayed my trust and lost everything. I don’t want you as my father. I will do everything in my power to ensure that I never see you again, no matter how badly you are hurt by it. Happy Father’s Day, to the man who used to be my daddy.