Lessons learned

A relationship of sorts.

Lessons learned

I knew a man when I was a child. He promised me many things and told me many lies. On Christmas he would come by, carrying the hopes of gifts galore, “I’m sorry” was his alcoholic reply while his balance kept shifting from left to right. Maybe take your hands out of your pockets to hold yourself up right. I know they’re empty, don’t hide them.

“You B***h! You’ll pay for that!” And then a backhand would follow. Mom let him misuse her. She was his property, that’s the lesson I knew.

He left the unfulfilled promises looming in the air, and the apologies dissipated into forgotten memories once he left on my third birthday.

It wasn’t until I was seventeen that I saw him again. By that time I had chain smoked a pack of cigarettes a day since the age of fourteen. I had been in and out of correctional facilities and had given up on school a year back. I was destined to become pregnant and a burden to the government. The only language I spoke was that of the streets laced with profanities. I meant nothing to a damn person, and was used to the nicknames given to me by family: w***e, stupid, good-for-nothing, s**t. I was taught to judge others before they judged me.

Before I recognized him, he was standing in front of me. Toe to toe resembling another I knew. Fifteen years and this man had the audacity to place himself tall, humble and contrite at my feet. With tears in his eyes he set a tiny box of jewelry at my side. I lit a cigarette, and fiercely puffed away. As he tried to muster air from within to begin a sentence, I stood and walked away. Never once touching the precious gold tucked away in the white box.

A few days later I became curious as to the contents within that box. Once I opened it, it meant he was forgiven. It was on my neck at a family gathering one week later.

We tried our best to establish decorum. I met his family and eagerly took interest in them, as they did me. Through phone calls and air flights, we lived in happy harmony for three years until an accident knocked the wind from his chest, crippling his car and his body permanently. He lost his job and his family almost instantly.

I felt bad; after all I had forgiven his absence three years prior. Being dutiful and faithful I stayed in touch as I traveled south. Over a thousand miles separated us. But I was on my way to college.

And even though it was my day to walk a stage and receive a diploma (my first as I had never finished high school), and he promised to be there, then called to cancel the day of, and the tears rushed forth as I remembered how he used to lie, I kept up good company with the man. I trusted him and gave him the benefit of the doubt.

I returned north to head home, and met the many women he dated. So many names in such a short amount of time. One of them and I grew rather close to. She called me friend and even gave me a key to her home. I loved her and welcomed her presence in my life.

They were married, in the traditional manner, with deer hide on their back and spirit blessings adorned. It wasn’t legal, in the judicial respect, which made it easy for him to leave her six months later, but it mattered to us that believed in the old ways to believe their union was true.

Before their break, I was invited to spend my Christmas vacation with them. I had been living in the same state working on a second degree at the time. I thought it would be nice to be near loving people during the holidays. Three days into the festivities, and Christmas morning rolled around. I was asked to leave later that day. It seems she wasn’t having the best of mornings and preferred the quiet of her room to the rambunctious noises in her living room. And I was seen as “rude” in refusing to open gifts until she came out for breakfast. Instead of fighting my case against her, he drove me in silence. Cowardice befell him. And I verbally tore into him the entire drive home. He didn’t even say goodbye as I slammed the car door and stormed away from him for good.

That was my breaking point. Had circumstances changed I could have overlooked that I was abandoned on Christmas. But he had forced me to befriend another one of his conquests and just when I fell in love with her, s**t hits the fan. It’s been five years since I’ve called him, or even called him Dad.

Dad taught me men can’t be trusted. Dad taught me not to love because it doesn’t work out. Dad did what he could, and taught me lessons in life that only age will give. Thank you Dad.

Reviews

[shallimarRose]

Wow.. almost painful to read.. Very brave you are to share this story.. My father was an alcoholic ... after my eighth birthday I cannot remember him sober.. He died when I was fifteen.. but I did not forgive him until I was fifty... Its a process... I hope he knows I finally forgave him...

shallimarRose

[Jack V.]

Thanks so much for the review Rose. I'm testing my writing fingers getting this stuff out there. Glad you enjoyed it. :) Sorry to hear about your own struggles. The point in writing a lot of this stuff is to get the dialogue going on things like this.