A Letter to My Father

Sleep has always been a less than great experience with me because 1) I snore and I'm self conscious about it, 2) I have sleep apnea so I'm always scared I'm going to stop breathing permanently and end up dying and 3) I always have really violent dreams, so I wake up in a panic and I'm not sure what's going on for the first few moments... for the first time, last night, I had a violent dream that involved my father...

I had come back into my grandma's house and I just happened to see Doo-Wop holding her face... thinking she had run into something, I really didn't think anything of it but then she started crying... so I went over to her, picked her up and asked her what was wrong... she said "Daddy..." that was a weird response, so upon further inspection I saw a tiny bruise forming on the side of her face... thinking the absolute worst, I asked "Daddy did that to you?" and she started crying again... my grandma was just coming up the hallway when I put her down and ran out of the house... my dad was in the back of his friend's SUV and I ordered him to get out the car... he looked at me, and started laughing as the SUV started to back up out of the driveway... I ran over to the car, opened the door (which he foolishly left unlocked) and pulled him out... his friends looked on in horror but they didn't dare hop out the whip... one punch leveled him... I got on top of him and punched and kicked anything I could... his face was bloodied and I was more than sure I had broken a rib or two... I stood up and started to stomp his face with my boots... I knocked some of his teeth out including that gold one I hated so much... I kicked him in the ribs at least ten more times before my uncle came out to subdue me... I was cursing at him the whole time and before his friends could drag him back into the truck, I yelled "And don't bring your bitch ass around here anymore... the next time I see you, I'll fucking kill you!" His response was "That's aight because I got some niggas that'll handle you for me!" Then he got in the car and sped off... my uncle dragged me back in the house and my grandma was asking me if I was ok... I walked through the front door and grabbed Doo-Wop who had stopped crying and gave her a kiss and held her tightly... about an hour later, I was in my grandma's room watching tv when a black Yukon pulled up and a man with a mask and a gun hopped out the passenger's side... I yelled for everybody to go out the back door... my uncle grabbed Doo-Wop and my granddad helped my grandma out to the back... I ran up the hallway and the door busted open... all I heard were shots but I didn't see anything...

That's when I woke up... my dreams always end that way... I get shot at but it's never revealed whether I actually get shot or die or anything... I shudder to think that this would happen in real life but I'm more than sure it could... shit, it happens all the time... violence has consumed alot of lives, mine included... I have a preoccupation with death and I have a strange fascination with violence... that's neither here nor there... the most baffling part about it all is that it's my father who's in this... so, even though I know he'll never read this, I'm writing a letter to him...


Dear Father,

Throughout my younger life, I blamed you for my circumstances... the fact that we didn't have enough money, the fact that my mom had to work all the time, the fact that she denied herself basic things so that me and Shaunne could eat, be dressed and have things is something I've never been able to forgive you for... until now... I can't allow you to have power over me and my life because you don't deserve that much... so I forgive you... holding on to the pain and the hurt and the anguish of you not being around is not something that is conducive to what I'm trying to accomplish... all the animosity I once had is over and gone... but let me say this and I want to make it perfectly clear: I have not forgotten ANYTHING... see forgiving is one thing, forgetting is quite another... now, around Christmastime, you came over to my grandma's house to give Doo-Wop her gift and that was perfectly fine, I got no issue with that... but the fact that you tried to come to me and say "let's talk" was wack... and then for you to catch an attitude when I refused is something you've brought on yourself... you said "I see how it is... it's ok... I don't know why we never hang out anymore" ANYMORE?!? When did we hang out the first time? If you call me spending a weekend at your house when I was seven hanging out, then yeah you're right, we don't hang out anymore... but who's fault is that? I'm the motherfucking child, you are the parent!! It's not like I didn't call and ask... but at a certain point, I just learned to stop asking... when I was nine, I had my first little league football game... and everybody was there... Shaunne was there... Alisa kept trying to run on the field and tackle people... shit even Grandma was there and she doesn't even like football... where were you? When I was in junior high and I didn't make the school team and was crushed and confused... you weren't there to console me and tell me it would be ok... I ended up playing for a rec league by my house and you NEVER fucking showed up... Mark and Jan were staying in Missouri at the time and even they came to watch me play two games... I still remember Mark calling out the ref the time I got that steal and it got called as a foul... I still remember that shit like it was yesterday... you weren't at graduation, you didn't help me move into the dorms (either time), you don't even know my fucking birthday... you didn't call me yesterday... but you have the audacity to tell me that WE don't hang out anymore... do you know how hard it was for me not to curse you out in front of my mother? You arrogant bastard, how dare you?

Ok, well let me calm down because your faults are not the purpose of this letter... I'm writing this in relation to Doo-Wop... somehow, about three years ago, you had my mother thinking you were going to marry her and you got her pregnant... now as far as I'm concerned the only thing good that came out of that was Doo-Wop... I love Doo-Wop like my own daughter... I almost feel bad about it because I know my other sisters see how I treat her and it has to make them a little jealous because I don't treat them that way... now I see you bringing her presents and trying to play Daddy but let me tell you this right now... if you're going to do it, then keep doing it... don't show up in her life when it's fucking convenient for you... MAKE TIME FOR HER... I mean that shit with a passion... don't set her up for a fall... I'm going to make it my duty to make sure that she has everything she wants and needs until I'm dead and gone so I'm not worried about her having to live the same type of life that me and Shaunne had to... but I'm not her motherfucking father... that's YOUR job... and if you ever renege on your job, I will ALSO make it my duty to make sure she never fucking knows you ever existed...

Now in relation to this dream, this goes without saying, but if you EVER put your hands on her or anybody else in my family, I will fucking kill you... I can't be more clear than that... violence is something I've become quite good at and if I were you, it's not something I would test my limits on... I already heard about that situation with Alisa from years ago and the only thing that kept me from taking your life then was my girl... oh, she saved you from dying a horribly agonizing death, my good man... I advise you to pray to whoever you pray to and thank them for having your life spared at the hands of your son because it would have been the sickest and most torturous hour of your life... and they would NEVER find your body... and I don't say that with any hesitation or any type of exaggeration... thanks to anger management, I'm able to keep myself from getting too angry too fast but when I get to the point where I'm angry, I become unstable... I feel no pain, just rage... it would be in your best interest to either do what you've been promising to do for the past 24 years or just stay away from me and my family...

So let me end this by saying, your duties or obligations or whatever you want to call them are over for me and you... we have no relationship and there will be no reconciliation... I'm not even sure I'll be at your funeral because I honestly feel no reason to "pay my respects" to a person who never respected the father-son bond that we were supposed to have... as long as you keep a smile on Doo-Wop's face and keep everything else cordial, we have no problems... but if you cross the threshold of reason and do something I feel is unnecessary, well, you already know what it is... I bid you adieu...

--The Product of Your Sperm