I know it was hard for you, but you tried.
I was heartbroken, finally ready and in need to have this conversation with you.
You played “The Holiday (2009)” in the background. A distraction if needed.
We laid and held hands, our bodies far apart. Touch new to our relationship.
I was in such a vulnerable place that I had nothing left in me but to just forgive and finally let go.
So, I did.
I discussed it all with you, the same pain I tried bringing up once before.
I wasn’t ready then; I didn’t have the maturity to understand that you were only a man who was trying his absolute best for his family.
We spoke and watched, holding hands the entire time.
I know it wasn’t easy, but you tried. That alone meant the world.
Thank you for listening. Thank you for being there.
I didn’t feel anxious. It felt very honest. It was nice.
I told you “I forgive you & I love you.”
And I do, Dad.
My father was born and raised in a small town in the Caribbean. During their late teens him and some of his siblings immigrated to America. They were all just trying their best with the little guidance they had. Therapists and speaking about their feelings weren’t a “thing”. And now that I’ve taken the time to better understand him, I feel like it’s starting to make sense. I want to understand more.
I know there is still pain that you went through that you’ll never tell us. The actual magnitude of the abuse and struggles, but know that regardless, we will always love you.
Thank you, Dad, for listening. For allowing yourself to be the most vulnerable I’ve ever seen. Thank you for being my father. I love you. I forgive you. Now we move on.
Gabriela A Tejada
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