During the last eight months of my life I have begun to get to know a man that has been a small part of my life for the last eleven years.

Eleven years ago, when I was seven, my parents were legally separated. My brothers and I didn’t really understand what was going on, or why, but we just knew that daddy was leaving and now we would only see him on the weekends.

I don’t remember the day he packed all of his things and left; maybe I was absent--not in body, but in mind! From that day on it felt as if something was missing in our house and for that feeling of emptiness, I blamed my father.

It has taken me every bit of eleven years to forgive my father for committing adultery and making my life a little more rockier than it would have been. Every time my mother had to struggle to buy us what we wanted, I blamed my father. Every time a bill went unpaid, and my mother smoked twice as many cigarettes as usual, I blamed my father. When we had to move to Washington, D.C, I blamed my father. And when my grandfather died (my father’s father) and I was the only grandchild at the funeral that couldn’t cry for a stranger, I blamed my father!

When I was growing up I was very hateful towards my father. And although I only saw him four times out of a month, when I did see him I was too busy trying to make him feel guilty for not being there to enjoy our time together!

But during this year of my life I stopped feeling the pain and anger. I was able to forgive my father and understand that I was not the only one going through the pain. And for his birthday I decided to write him a poem expressing my love it reads:

When I think of you, days of watching the Cowboys shine through.
You hoop and holler as “your boys” make a play.
The sweet smell of pork rinds and beer pass my way.

Daddy’s little girl…Yup! That’s what I was.
Motorcycle rides on warm breezy days.
“Don’t go to sleep puddin,” I’d hear you say.

Present day…Several years have passed away.
But I’m still your little girl, just in a grown-up type of way.

Now I stop by just to say “Hey!”
Now I admire your personality and spunk.
You’re a little chubbier now, but still think you’re a hunk!
We’re still learning one another, 
but I love you now more than ever before.

*******

This essay was written seven years ago when I was in my senior year of high school. I am now twenty-five years old. Unfortunately my father still hasn't done more to spend time with my siblings and I; yet I forgive him still.