then he chose to go away. Left her… left them, absent, gone for good. Selfish actions, a domino effect, one man’s folly, another’s agonizing consequence.
She is just one of many daughters. Lost her right to a father’s love, The right to be cherished, accepted, nurtured, understood. Wasn’t he supposed to be a constant in her life? A shoulder to cry on? A refuge to run to? Yet he was none of these things.
She is just one of many daughters subjected to abuse, verbal torrents, vocal onslaughts, emotional distress. Swallowed up in tumult, pursued by despair, grasping for deliverance, longing for release …from her pain.
She is just one of many daughters born into dysfunction. She bears the scars of a fatherless existence.
Catharsis
Cleansing of emotions, years of burden bearing need to find release, from hurt and pain rooted deep inside.
Scars of affliction, buried, repressed remain covered, untouched, seemingly forever. Deliberately unmentioned, loathed to discuss feelings hidden away, I’m trying to forget.
Emancipation - through flow of words. Healing through words that touch. Potent words that unleash torrents of emotions.
Abandoned
Slapping, punching and pounding one another, they hurl curses and insults at each other in Spanish. “¡MALDITO! ¡ERES UN PERRO! ¡HIJO DE LA GRAN…!” The whole scene is a loud, constant, and unbearable barrage of hurtful words and actions. Witnessing this shocking scene of brutality from the corner of a bedroom, two children crouch down, shaking with fear. Why did this whole thing even start and when were they going to stop? “Stop it already!” they want to scream.
The woman… she fights fiercely –angry and unrelenting in her assault. She discharges her rage on the man because he deserves it. It is obvious he doesn’t want to engage in a physical fight as he half-heartedly deflects her blows. But his demeanor and whatever had provoked the whole grievous incident only gives her more fuel to continue the onslaught. They fight for what seems like hours yet it is truly only minutes and then it is over as quickly as it had begun. Suddenly it seems the man has had enough and turns away from her abruptly. Without another word, he walks swiftly out of the bedroom, heads for the front door, opens it and slams it, while she screams over and over, “¡COBARDE! ¡ERES UN COBARDE!” You F…You’re a dog! A son of a b…” You’re a coward! A coward!
The children look at the woman as she remains there in a defiant stance - her shoulders back, an angry scowl on her face. They see her look towards the door - set for the man to return, ready to start this battle once again. The seconds tick by … as she slowly realizes that he is gone for good. Then almost immediately they see her shoulders slump, like a balloon suddenly and violently deflated. As she sits down on the edge of her bed, she put her hands to her face and begins to sob – heaving, wracking sobs that make her whole body tremble. At first they are afraid to move. What are they supposed to do? They are just helpless and distressed children, first hand observers of a terrifying incidence of domestic violence. Yet looking at her crying, a look of despondence on her face, they feel a great sense of compassion for her. They long to comfort her in her despair. Tentatively, the children walk over to the woman and put their small hands on her shoulder. They want her to know they will not abandon her as he has done. After all, she is their mother.
Even If
He left us Rejecting and abandoning us time and again Leaving us feeling unwanted Leaving us with feelings of inadequacy implanted by his egotistical actions Leaving us struggling to overcome them for a lifetime Yet we loved him – He was her husband - he was our father
Even if He was more like a parasite Unwanted and hard to get rid of Egocentric and hedonistic Yet we acted as if we needed him
Even if His presence was inconsistent And his stays infrequent He’d come in like whirlwind And then leave us just as swiftly Yet we longed for him to be in our lives
Even if
His promises were empty and His affection insincere Blatantly favoring one child over the others Disdaining them as intrusive mistakes in his life Yet we forgave him over and over again
Even if His selfish actions carved wounds too deep to heal And marked patterns of dysfunction into our lives We chose to cut him off like a gangrenous limb Refusing to allow him to continue to poison us Yet