Dear Daddy,
Mom says that as soon as you found out she was expecting, you started to referring to her baby bump as 'la nena'. You knew from the beginning you had a little girl on the way. I was told you used to talk to mom's belly or sing to it all the time, so I would get used to your voice. When I was born at 2:52 p.m., you simply told everyone "I knew it was a girl", and when it was midnight in the nursery and I wouldn't stop screaming, the nurse handed me to you, and as soon as you started talking to me I shut up and simply stared at you. My mom wanted to name me Yamilette, and when you went the next day after I was born to register me, the lady in front of you was registering her daughter as Yamilette. So, in 5 minutes, you came up with Yaritza. Thank you, I like it better. I think it's safe to say we mutually adored each other, from day one.
You guys never had any other kids, but that's okay, because I had you all to myself. You played dress up with me, and let me put make up on you. You took me on sales calls, back when you used to sell office supplies, as early as 2 months after I was born. Everyone in your route always loved when you came by, with me in tow, and always had gifts for me. I remember long drives with you to other towns, and sneaking into bars up in the mountains, and shooting pool with you during your lunch break. I was only 5 or 6 and the people in the bar would laugh at me trying to reach over the table. I always beat you, now I know you let me, you pool shark. You were my brother, my only friend, and you kept me safe from my nightmares when nothing else seemed to help. You taught me everything I needed to know, and made sure I spoke perfect English before I started school. I can't thank you enough for that, you made my school years a breeze. I remember you watching the Wizard of Oz non stop with me, and singing every song. Every afternoon, no matter how tired you were, you'd get home from work and ask me if I wanted to go to the beach. You took away my fear of snorkeling and showed me the amazing underwater world, hand in hand.
When I had my first crush, it was YOU I told, not mom. I remember when I was 7, you had a bad alcohol problem. One night it was 2 a.m. and you weren't home from work. Mom was so worried, and then you walked in through the door all bloody and wrapped up in bandages. You had fallen asleep at the wheel, drunk, and totaled our only car into another head on. You almost killed the other family. Mom was horrified, I was sad. Sad that she was yelling at you, my friend. That night she kicked you out of bed, so you curled up in my twin size bed with me and you thought I was asleep, so you cried. I was awake, and it was the first time I had seen a man cry...let alone my father. We were a team, against the 'evil' mom. We'd sneak out and eat junk food or go play basketball. I saw it as you being my hero, I didn't realize you were having problems and needed time away from mom. So mom's mom got sick, and you were the best son in law in history. You stayed with her, even changed her when she was unable to move.
Mom took out her sadness on you, and I hated her for it. No one messed with my dad. Then grandma died, and on top of my broken heart, I saw you guys drift further apart. Then mom got really sick, she was on her deathbed, and you moved heaven and hell to get her help. Which meant moving to Pennsylvania, something that would ruin us forever. You had to find a job over there, something that Mom wasn't happy about. I thought she was being ungrateful, after all we did to save her life. Why was she so mad about you finding a job in PA? It was temporary, right? Until she was done with treatment? I asked you a few weeks after her treatment was done if we were going back to Puerto Rico. You said we'd never move back, that you would never go back to making little to no money and having a 'hard' life. That he was doing what was best for us, and I better get used to the fact that I'd go to high school in the US. To forget my friends, and that I could visit in the summers. I felt my world crumble, and started seeing the change in you. It was the beginning of the end, as far as our relationship went.
You knew mom and I were really depressed living in this new place, and you didn't know how to deal with it. So you started working a lot, 2 jobs, with the excuse that you wanted to provide us with everything we'd never had. Well, Dad, I didn't need money or material things, I needed the one thing I thought I still had in this new country - my best friend, you. I needed for you to see what you're not being home meant to me. I had to deal with mom's depression and health, alone. She took it out on me. Her anger...everything, on me. You're not being home meant I had to walk to school, alone, 20+ blocks in 4 feet of snow regularly. You weren't there when I'd come home after a long day of having no friends, to lock myself into the computer world. I grew up fast, dad. I had to. I still covered for you. When the day would turn into the night and mom would ask if I had heard from you, I'd lie and tell her you called and said you were working late. You stopped coming home, and spending any time with us. I knew you had someone else in your life, and asked you a few times. You acted like I had said the most offensive thing, started blaming mom for 'putting ideas in my head' and the arguments between you both became unbearable.
You blamed her for my depression, for my reclusive behavior and for my going through the drama I went through with a pedophile online. She lashed back and blamed you for being a different man and father than you were before. She blamed you for moving us away from our home. The constant fighting...you guys will never know what it was like for me that last year leading to you leaving us. Because in the end that's what you did. Someone else promised you an eternal honeymoon. That's what it was, no? All love, all sex, all going out and partying till your mid-life crisis desires were fulfilled. You stopped coming by the home altogether, and paying the bills. I was 16, daddy. Guess who had to carry mom through it all? She lost it for the first year you were gone. Your absence consumed her. I had no time to grieve the loss of a father and best friend, I had to pick up 2 jobs during high school to pay for the mortgage and bills. To pay for our food and play 'grow up' while you were off enjoying another chance at being single and young. Mom lost it pretty intensely for a while, and our relationship got so strained all we did was yell at each other. Over you. Because I told her to get over it, that you weren't coming back, and she blamed me for you leaving. She couldn't even look at my face, because I looked like you so much. Nothing I ever did was enough. I was sleepless, overworked, carrying full time school my Jr and Sr year of high school and I had no one to share the load with...my friend was gone. I tried killing myself, remember? You showed up all concerned when mom called you, you both took me to the shrink and what was supposed to be an opportunity to get me help, turned into a session of bitching between you both and I didn't get to speak once.
You never showed up again after that, except for my graduation. I couldn't go to college, pops, because you still claimed mom and me as your dependents and informed the government you paid for all our stuff...so naturally, with your salary, I didn't qualify for any financial aid. Doesn't matter than I never saw a penny of your money, did it? As long as you got to get a big return to spend with your new piece of ass and her two rats.
Her. The 'friend of the family' that was suspiciously available there for you every time things got a little rough at home. The one that told you she wanted to have kids, and wanted to change the last name of her other two to the last name only you and I share. The one that told you I was acting out (how???) by asking to spend time with you on weekends and the one that limited your phone calls to me. I would've understood, dad, if you were IN love with her. Love is a powerful thing, and if mom no longer made you happy, that would've been a different story. But when you divorce someone, you don't divorce your kid. You were a douchebag, dad. I needed you.
But time passed...and I turned out fine. I worked hard, multiple jobs. Mom moved on, and soon you were dead to me. You called me once a week, as an obligation and I greeted you coldly. You always played the victim to your family. Soon enough grandma and your sisters, my 'aunts', were spreading the word around about how badly I treated my father and how I didn't spend time with him or even wanted to see him. Too bad you never told them the truth, huh, Dad.
Now you're back in our life. You have been. You remarried mom 2 years ago, and had been living with us for the past 3. Everyone tells me I'm lucky to have my parents back together, that I don't know how rare it is for this to happen. Mom took you right in. She never stopped loving you. She forgot the bond her and I had formed while you were gone. Thelma and Louise. All out the window. She took you back, forgave everything and ya'll are back to how you were before we moved to the US. Great. Good for you.
Dad, you see, just because whatever apology you gave her was sufficient for her to erase the last 6 years of our life, it doesn't mean that I appreciate you waltzing back in and being all "FATHER" again. I lost all ounce of respect and trust I had in you. Specially, since you had already come back once and left again. Why would this time be any different? What gives you the right to tell me how I should think or behave? Or to act all hurt that I still can't be in the same room with you without feeling completely repulsed by your presence. Do you want me to pretend I'm fine?
No. I am a firm believer that you pay for what you did in life. You are now paying for what you did to me. You will have to earn my love, respect and trust back. It will take time, a long time. So stop acting like you're the victim of a bitchy cold-hearted daughter. Yes, I have to work on letting all this anger towards you go, I understand that. But you don't get that in order for us to sit down like adults and hash out our issues, you have to accept blame for your mistakes. It helps no one when, in an attempt to be close again, I bring up the subject and how hurt I was - and you take the opportunity to stop me halfway and proclaim "It's in the past, I don't want to talk about it". Well, pops, I do. I want to talk about it. Until I'm blue in the face. I want you to hear the hurtful words I have to say.
You disappointed me. You abandoned me. You thought with your dick, not your head. You broke our bond. Fix it.
Happy Dad's Day? Sure. I'm happy you were the dad you were. You still gave me the happiest moments of my life, the best lessons and the best friendship. I wouldn't trade you for anyone, dad. I still love you.
I still love you. But I can't be the little Yari that lit up every time you walked inside a room.
Good luck.
Mom says that as soon as you found out she was expecting, you started to referring to her baby bump as 'la nena'. You knew from the beginning you had a little girl on the way. I was told you used to talk to mom's belly or sing to it all the time, so I would get used to your voice. When I was born at 2:52 p.m., you simply told everyone "I knew it was a girl", and when it was midnight in the nursery and I wouldn't stop screaming, the nurse handed me to you, and as soon as you started talking to me I shut up and simply stared at you. My mom wanted to name me Yamilette, and when you went the next day after I was born to register me, the lady in front of you was registering her daughter as Yamilette. So, in 5 minutes, you came up with Yaritza. Thank you, I like it better. I think it's safe to say we mutually adored each other, from day one.
You guys never had any other kids, but that's okay, because I had you all to myself. You played dress up with me, and let me put make up on you. You took me on sales calls, back when you used to sell office supplies, as early as 2 months after I was born. Everyone in your route always loved when you came by, with me in tow, and always had gifts for me. I remember long drives with you to other towns, and sneaking into bars up in the mountains, and shooting pool with you during your lunch break. I was only 5 or 6 and the people in the bar would laugh at me trying to reach over the table. I always beat you, now I know you let me, you pool shark. You were my brother, my only friend, and you kept me safe from my nightmares when nothing else seemed to help. You taught me everything I needed to know, and made sure I spoke perfect English before I started school. I can't thank you enough for that, you made my school years a breeze. I remember you watching the Wizard of Oz non stop with me, and singing every song. Every afternoon, no matter how tired you were, you'd get home from work and ask me if I wanted to go to the beach. You took away my fear of snorkeling and showed me the amazing underwater world, hand in hand.
When I had my first crush, it was YOU I told, not mom. I remember when I was 7, you had a bad alcohol problem. One night it was 2 a.m. and you weren't home from work. Mom was so worried, and then you walked in through the door all bloody and wrapped up in bandages. You had fallen asleep at the wheel, drunk, and totaled our only car into another head on. You almost killed the other family. Mom was horrified, I was sad. Sad that she was yelling at you, my friend. That night she kicked you out of bed, so you curled up in my twin size bed with me and you thought I was asleep, so you cried. I was awake, and it was the first time I had seen a man cry...let alone my father. We were a team, against the 'evil' mom. We'd sneak out and eat junk food or go play basketball. I saw it as you being my hero, I didn't realize you were having problems and needed time away from mom. So mom's mom got sick, and you were the best son in law in history. You stayed with her, even changed her when she was unable to move.
Mom took out her sadness on you, and I hated her for it. No one messed with my dad. Then grandma died, and on top of my broken heart, I saw you guys drift further apart. Then mom got really sick, she was on her deathbed, and you moved heaven and hell to get her help. Which meant moving to Pennsylvania, something that would ruin us forever. You had to find a job over there, something that Mom wasn't happy about. I thought she was being ungrateful, after all we did to save her life. Why was she so mad about you finding a job in PA? It was temporary, right? Until she was done with treatment? I asked you a few weeks after her treatment was done if we were going back to Puerto Rico. You said we'd never move back, that you would never go back to making little to no money and having a 'hard' life. That he was doing what was best for us, and I better get used to the fact that I'd go to high school in the US. To forget my friends, and that I could visit in the summers. I felt my world crumble, and started seeing the change in you. It was the beginning of the end, as far as our relationship went.
You knew mom and I were really depressed living in this new place, and you didn't know how to deal with it. So you started working a lot, 2 jobs, with the excuse that you wanted to provide us with everything we'd never had. Well, Dad, I didn't need money or material things, I needed the one thing I thought I still had in this new country - my best friend, you. I needed for you to see what you're not being home meant to me. I had to deal with mom's depression and health, alone. She took it out on me. Her anger...everything, on me. You're not being home meant I had to walk to school, alone, 20+ blocks in 4 feet of snow regularly. You weren't there when I'd come home after a long day of having no friends, to lock myself into the computer world. I grew up fast, dad. I had to. I still covered for you. When the day would turn into the night and mom would ask if I had heard from you, I'd lie and tell her you called and said you were working late. You stopped coming home, and spending any time with us. I knew you had someone else in your life, and asked you a few times. You acted like I had said the most offensive thing, started blaming mom for 'putting ideas in my head' and the arguments between you both became unbearable.
You blamed her for my depression, for my reclusive behavior and for my going through the drama I went through with a pedophile online. She lashed back and blamed you for being a different man and father than you were before. She blamed you for moving us away from our home. The constant fighting...you guys will never know what it was like for me that last year leading to you leaving us. Because in the end that's what you did. Someone else promised you an eternal honeymoon. That's what it was, no? All love, all sex, all going out and partying till your mid-life crisis desires were fulfilled. You stopped coming by the home altogether, and paying the bills. I was 16, daddy. Guess who had to carry mom through it all? She lost it for the first year you were gone. Your absence consumed her. I had no time to grieve the loss of a father and best friend, I had to pick up 2 jobs during high school to pay for the mortgage and bills. To pay for our food and play 'grow up' while you were off enjoying another chance at being single and young. Mom lost it pretty intensely for a while, and our relationship got so strained all we did was yell at each other. Over you. Because I told her to get over it, that you weren't coming back, and she blamed me for you leaving. She couldn't even look at my face, because I looked like you so much. Nothing I ever did was enough. I was sleepless, overworked, carrying full time school my Jr and Sr year of high school and I had no one to share the load with...my friend was gone. I tried killing myself, remember? You showed up all concerned when mom called you, you both took me to the shrink and what was supposed to be an opportunity to get me help, turned into a session of bitching between you both and I didn't get to speak once.
You never showed up again after that, except for my graduation. I couldn't go to college, pops, because you still claimed mom and me as your dependents and informed the government you paid for all our stuff...so naturally, with your salary, I didn't qualify for any financial aid. Doesn't matter than I never saw a penny of your money, did it? As long as you got to get a big return to spend with your new piece of ass and her two rats.
Her. The 'friend of the family' that was suspiciously available there for you every time things got a little rough at home. The one that told you she wanted to have kids, and wanted to change the last name of her other two to the last name only you and I share. The one that told you I was acting out (how???) by asking to spend time with you on weekends and the one that limited your phone calls to me. I would've understood, dad, if you were IN love with her. Love is a powerful thing, and if mom no longer made you happy, that would've been a different story. But when you divorce someone, you don't divorce your kid. You were a douchebag, dad. I needed you.
But time passed...and I turned out fine. I worked hard, multiple jobs. Mom moved on, and soon you were dead to me. You called me once a week, as an obligation and I greeted you coldly. You always played the victim to your family. Soon enough grandma and your sisters, my 'aunts', were spreading the word around about how badly I treated my father and how I didn't spend time with him or even wanted to see him. Too bad you never told them the truth, huh, Dad.
Now you're back in our life. You have been. You remarried mom 2 years ago, and had been living with us for the past 3. Everyone tells me I'm lucky to have my parents back together, that I don't know how rare it is for this to happen. Mom took you right in. She never stopped loving you. She forgot the bond her and I had formed while you were gone. Thelma and Louise. All out the window. She took you back, forgave everything and ya'll are back to how you were before we moved to the US. Great. Good for you.
Dad, you see, just because whatever apology you gave her was sufficient for her to erase the last 6 years of our life, it doesn't mean that I appreciate you waltzing back in and being all "FATHER" again. I lost all ounce of respect and trust I had in you. Specially, since you had already come back once and left again. Why would this time be any different? What gives you the right to tell me how I should think or behave? Or to act all hurt that I still can't be in the same room with you without feeling completely repulsed by your presence. Do you want me to pretend I'm fine?
No. I am a firm believer that you pay for what you did in life. You are now paying for what you did to me. You will have to earn my love, respect and trust back. It will take time, a long time. So stop acting like you're the victim of a bitchy cold-hearted daughter. Yes, I have to work on letting all this anger towards you go, I understand that. But you don't get that in order for us to sit down like adults and hash out our issues, you have to accept blame for your mistakes. It helps no one when, in an attempt to be close again, I bring up the subject and how hurt I was - and you take the opportunity to stop me halfway and proclaim "It's in the past, I don't want to talk about it". Well, pops, I do. I want to talk about it. Until I'm blue in the face. I want you to hear the hurtful words I have to say.
You disappointed me. You abandoned me. You thought with your dick, not your head. You broke our bond. Fix it.
Happy Dad's Day? Sure. I'm happy you were the dad you were. You still gave me the happiest moments of my life, the best lessons and the best friendship. I wouldn't trade you for anyone, dad. I still love you.
I still love you. But I can't be the little Yari that lit up every time you walked inside a room.
Good luck.
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