To my father,
No one really tell you how to grieve an estranged parent. No one tells you what it’s like when the man who is half the reason you’re alive is dead, but you hadn’t spoken to him for nine years prior.
Your death was sudden. You were dead for several days before I knew. My exact response was more or less “well, that happened.” For the graveside memorial, I was asked to share my favorite memory of you. I decided that it likely wasn’t best to respond with “the phone call that you kicked the bucket.” I was reminded of the time in tenth grade when I was getting testing done – I was asked to name just one good thing about my dad. I gave him a blank look. I couldn’t. I couldn’t come up with one good thing.
There are few people the world is better without. Like Anne Frank, I truly believe there is good in everyone. But I can’t find the good in my father. Not when after I moved 750 miles away, I had you banned from my college campus. Not when I was an adult and safe, I lived in fear of you finding my phone number. His death ended those worries…but they still exist. It’s illogical. You’re dead. You’re gone.
But it’s 6:30 am and I’m awake because I can’t sleep. I’m awake because my mind is plagued of memories of all the stuff you did. I lied for years. I hid the abuse for years. I didn’t tell anyone what you did for me for literally decades. Even though my medical records state that even though I denied those forms of abuse, it was suspected.
Some days I think there isn’t one good thing about you. But then I remember.
“Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City to take back the child you have stolen, for my will is as strong as yours and my kingdom as great. You have no power over me!” Labyrinth
I’m alive (cue “Unbreakable, they alive dammit, it’s a miracle”). I will rise above. You may have torn me down. You may have beat me. You may have raped me. But I’m alive and you are not. I still have time to make something of my life. You have lost the chance.
You lost the chance to see who I became. I became a loyal and compassionate Hufflepuff. I became a fiesty and sarcastic cynic. I’m still an introvert. I never graduated college. But I became an advocate and an activist. I’m becoming the person I needed when I was little.
Your death sealed the end of our relationship. It’s over. Done. It never was and it is finalized. You are gone.
Now if only I can convince my brain of what I just wrote. If only I can believe it in my heart. I know I will someday. I just hope someday comes soon. Because, you have no power over me. I have my strong will. I have my friends. I soared over the obstacles.
Your daughter no longer.