the glass is not half empty
i could have screwed up my entire life and blame it all on you. you know, the kind of things expected from somebody who has father-daughter issues. issues that are extremely difficult to resolve, impossible to forget. i could have lived my whole adult life in misery of not being able to go past the impasse, be a pain in everybody’s neck and just say…you know, my dad never REALLY loved me, that’s why i’m like this.
but i didn’t.
i could have hated you from the minute i realized you are one of those people who should have been stopped by the government from having more children. i could have raised my arms in resignation and said you were hopeless, when, countless of times, you embarassed yourself and your family with your drunkenness to the point of unspeakable humiliation.
but i didn’t. because you taught me something.
i have learned from our relationship the discovery that love can be stubborn. if it was not, how do you explain the fact that after all your misgivings, your absence, your crappy excuses, your neglect, your broken promises, and your lies, i still love you. really love you, like you were the world’s perfect dad.
i still do. honestly.
i intended to bare it all. start from the beginning and enumerate all the things that point to the conclusion that you do not deserve to be fondly called ”dad”. arguments that will explain the scars that broke my spirit since i was a little girl. just to get it off my chest. just to heal myself. just to set my soul free.
but i won’t. because there is no need.
for one, with all the crazy father-daughter stories we hear everyday, i really have no business complaining. compared to the wacko dads everywhere, you are a saint. and i say that without meaning to be mean. besides, the memories will always be there. i cannot take a drug that will erase the vivid recollection of the past. there is no way i can escape the pictures of your absence from the significant events in my life. i will never be able to understand why for you, even my best is never good enough. and i will never understand why i still try to do my best, just for you.
but i won’t dwell on that. i will, however, focus on what i have.
i only have two things. but they are more than enough.
first, the times you have shown me love. i will hang on to those times and remember them often. i will use them to convince myself that those sweet memories are the ones that truly matter. i will only cherish the mental pictures of those times i really felt we had a connection, and i will choose to warm my heart with those thoughts.
then, i have my kids. i have what it takes to change and stop the cycle. i will use your negative example and turn things around. i will try my best to be a better parent. i will be there for them. i wil be there for them.
if, and when i accomplish that, maybe, even when you are long gone, i will wear a smile and thank you, sincerely, for the way you influenced me to be a better mom.
for now, nothing will change. i will still love you. like you were the world’s best dad. and even though the fact that you go around telling people you’ve never loved my mom pains me to the core of my being, i will still be here.
i will not expect you to explain. i will not demand anything. there will be no furher questions asked.
answers are never enough anyway.


Aw May. I understand and I agree. You’re never going to get the answer that you need. They’re usually excuses. I’ve been there where you are and I’ve resigned to believe just as you do. We’re better people/mothers because we know…and we know we don’t want that for our own.
hugs my friend.
Comment by kimmyk — October 27, 2007 @ 10:42 pm
am happy for you for not passing on to your children the things you experienced
Comment by Rygel — October 28, 2007 @ 3:29 am
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Pingback by Yarntwo.Com » the glass is not half empty — October 28, 2007 @ 1:35 pm
may - i’m sorry for your pain. our parents are human and therefore imperfect. we can’t choose our parents, but we can choose to learn from our experience with them. good for you for learning what kind of parent you want to be. hang in there…
hugs,
m.
Comment by unsinkablemb — October 28, 2007 @ 7:46 pm
Love can be, as you say, most stubborn. Maybe that’s when it’s the most beautiful. Because it has no reason to exist other than itself.
Comment by Sid Leavitt — October 29, 2007 @ 6:20 pm
I was touch by your post as if I felt it inside. You’ve been brave enough to turn things into something positive rather than blaming your past for whatever misfortunes you will or you had encounter/ed. I also believe that we are responsible for who we are today or for who we want to be in the future. We cannot always make our pains and frustrations as an excuse of having a messy life. Congratulation for bringing yourself into someone everyone that can look up for.
Comment by richelle — October 30, 2007 @ 1:12 am