I would apperciate it if you could post this letter my father is dead so I am unable to confront him but i feel this is a step in the right direction. I would like to remain anonymous.
I lost my dad last year it was the hardest loss of my life.
When I was young he taught me right from wrong. He taught me how to fix cars. He showed me how to be a good cook (great in my eyes) He explained everything to me he was the smartest at math next to my older brother but he was better because he could explain it to me. When I was younger he was the master camper he would takes us up to the property he owned or to Portola. He would pitch the family tent in just minutes which was remarkable considering the help he had. We weren't the best at helping him. He would get up early every morning and make us all eggs and bacon and truly the best richest hot chocolate. And at night he would make us popcorn and we would all sing songs around the camp fire or play games. At bed time he would make sure we all were setup under the stars in our sleeping bags.
When I was young he would allow me to miss school to take me to his work or to the grocery outlet where he bought the neighborhood co-op's food. I was so proud of him he was always there to help someone else. It scared me when he had a heart attack, But when he came out of the hospital I knew he was unstoppable he beat death. When I was younger my mother left his bed and went to sleep in the other room with that asshole Link. My dad tolerated this I think for the sake of the family.
When I was young my mom moved out with Link. I was happy to see her go, it must have been an awful strain on my dad. No ordinary man could have taken as much as he did from my mom, and that jerk Link. When I was younger my dad had most of his kids leave the house. Although, he kept up with the ones that were still at home. He joined PWP and had us join the kid's group for our sake. There he met His new wife-to-be, lois she took him away from us most of the time but he was still with us when we needed him. He deserved the pleasure of her company.
When I was young my dad took us to the beach with his new love and the other kids of PWP. I remember telling him as I was heading to the water I was bringing back a mask full of water to pour on him and him laughing at me. I remember turning around in the water and seeing the ambulance come. I ran up as kids do to see what was going on. I remember seeing the medic doing CPR on my dad; the mucus coming out of his mouth and the feeling of losing this great man my DAD. I went with him to the hospital along with his fiancee, Lois. The doctor telling me he was dead the mad dash to get away from the hospital and the cop telling me I had to be strong as he walked me back to the hospital.
When I was younger my mom took me over to the neighbors to have me live with them. They knew the truth about my dad, he was great, a man of men, the type of man one want's to have their son grow up to be like. I tried to do just that. Though I knew I couldn't cause his honesty told me I was inferior to everyone else. I knew he told me that for my own good as he told me to try to be smart like Lori. I still wanted to be as much like him as possible. When I was young I remember joining the navy and doing the best to be like him. Making him proud that I earned awards for my dedication my hard work at the school's I attended. Then after leaving the navy going to college I wanted him to be so proud but I knew he wasn't because of my grades. I failed so miserably I felt he would be happy when I decided to do as I thought he felt he should have done at my birth, but didn't because he was such a good man. I decided to die, after all, I ruined my life my wife's and my beautiful daughter's. I was a total disgrace to him he couldn't be proud of me with all my failures. Now that I am older I remembered him coming in to my room when I was 13 and touching me. I remember him forcing me to go down on him, or him forcing me on my belly to give him pleasure all the while telling me how this was my whole self worth I was how he should have had my mom abort me while I was in her womb. I remember how violent he was when he raped me and how ashamed I was that I didn't stop him. I remember him calling me a faggot for going to him in hopes he would be gentle.
Now that I am older I remember crying for the loss of that asshole as a child as much as I cried last year for losing that hero of my youth. I remember telling everyone how great of a man he was and now I cry that I can't.