From the Fifth Tri-Short Story Collection Death In Years, Years In Life
I did not feel any love when they put him in the ground. No love. Just hate. Yeah, he was my father but that emotion for him died a long time ago. Death by anger. The last two years of my father’s life was spent with silence between us.
“Ishmael, please talk to your father,” my mother said. “Say something to him. He told you that he was sorry.”
“Yes, but he has not shown it,” I said. “How could he have an affair and another child?”
“It’s over,” she said.
“And that is what he regrets,” I said as I walked away. I did not want to hear her. I loved her too much to be mad at her. But I could not listen to her trying to defend him.
Before I found out what he did, my father and I had a wonderful relationship. We hung out together. He taught me how to play basketball, and we played that a lot. But what he did took away my joy. Around people I smiled. But I was not happy. I laughed. But I was hurting. It cut too deep, and even his death did not heal the wound.
I know God says to forgive. But I cannot. One day I hope to so I can have . . . peace.
This story is an original idea written by me.© Thanks for reading.
See you next Tuesday, God willing. 🙂