Broken Promises

Chapter 28 - Father's Day and the Valley

My father is exceptional. He has been a steady, guiding force in my life. While no man is perfect, I see him as a perfect example of a father. I know that he has made mistakes which he will readily admit, but his choices were made out of the best intent. He loves my mom and his kids. He is the father this day was created to honor. He taught me so much and continues to do so. We may not see eye to eye on a lot of things, but that does not matter. We are not the same person, nor do we pretend to be. We also may not speak the same language, which again is not necessary to love and support someone. My father works with his hands, and I am an academic. That is fine. We are our own people, and yet in so many ways, we are the same. He deserves this day.

My dearest friend lost her father many ago when she was near her 20s. He was a pillar for her. She was his little girl. His absence has left a hole in her soul. He never had the chance to meet her beautiful littles. I know she would give anything to celebrate this day with him, to introduce her littles to him, to feel his arms around her. To hear him tell her how proud he is of who she has become. This is a day of hurt for her, but for different reasons than mine. I wish I could take that pain from her. Someone so special does not deserve to know the pain of this day. She is who a father hopes his little girl will become. She embodies strength, compassion, empathy, love, and brilliance. She is a mother who cannot be rivaled.

But still...

I hate this holiday and everything about it. It forms hot bile in my throat and chokes out reason. People always want to get together to celebrate this day. I cannot bail when my father is there. I have to attend, but I do not always go. I must smile. I am in a captive situation celebrating things I do not want to think about. Every minute reminds me that I will never have this day. I will never receive a card from my baby girl. I will never have a hug. You will never say to me, I Love You, Daddy. The loss of those four words will tear a man's soul from his chest over and over. I would die happy today if you were to simply able to give me a hug, to hold my hand, or to simply whisper "daddy." But this will never be. This day is the hell that reminds me of all this and more. It is a day to celebrate the death of my soul. I need to not be there. I have no breath on this day.

On this day people have a meal, open some cards, share some presents, play some games. Keep the mask on tight. Pretend to smile. Pretend like everything is ok. Pretend like I am not dead on the inside. Pretend like I have not been waking up from nightmares over and over as this day approached. Pretend I do not sit in the dark and cry as I think about who you might have been. Pretend I am still a real person. Pretend I still have a soul that has any value. Hide myself, because the worst part is if they see a glimpse of the truth, it opens conversations I cannot share with them. These are not their feelings. These are mine. They do not need to share this darkness.

It does not help that two weeks after this holiday is the anniversary of your death. After ten years of making you a vow that everything would be okay each night as I prayed for you before bed, I ended up a liar. Trust and honesty are two of the most important things to me and I failed on both. I lied to my little girl when I told you that you would be okay, and you were not able to trust me to make everything okay. I signed the papers to allow you to be free of the pain you were in. I sign a simple paper, and the person I love most in all of creation simply dies. Those strokes of a pen mark a death sentence. I murdered the one person who I have begged to die for if only you were made whole. It is the day you die, and it is the day my soul dies alongside your body. Making the choice to let a child go is a choice no parent should ever make, but I did it because being a parent is not about me...and yet it is...It is more about me than I knew until it was ripped away. In those moments, as I walked away from you who were now lying in a hospital bed with no breath left inside, I knew that I was never going to be okay. I knew that I had failed at the thing which mattered most to me. The thing I wanted most from life. It is the day I was no longer a father, and I know I would never deserve to be again.