Hatred With A PassionWhen I was a little boy all I ever wanted from my dad was a hug and to be told that he loved me. Instead all I ever got was beaten and for most of the time I never knew why I was being beaten with a belt he would remove from his waist. I'll never forget one specific time he beat me so hard until I wet myself. I had a pair of shorts on so I felt so humiliated. He even said to me, "I'm going to beat you so hard until the **** runs down your legs!". I guess I peed myself to get the beating to stop, I'm not sure but I'll never forget it.
Have you ever loved someone so much with a passion with all your being, with everything inside you? your heart, soul and mind? Well it was just the opposite for me toward my father. I hated him so much, with all my being. I hated him as much as anybody could love somebody, I hated him with a passion.I hated him not as much for the abuse he done to me but more so the abuse he done to my mother because it was much worse. My mother was a good Christian woman, faithful to God and my dad. I was a child and at home when my dad would come home from work and start an argument with my mom and accuse her of having an affair with neighbor and began beating her. He would give her black eyes, bruise her arms and just beat her for some false made-up story which I knew was a lie because I was with my mom all day. Then if my older brothers would try to stop him, he would pull out a shot gun or a pistol and threaten to shoot and kill all of us. I stood trembling coward behind a doorway peeking to see what would happen next.
I grew up in this kind of environment all the way up to my teenage years and one day my dad and I had an argument and I was filled with anger. All the years of abuse had reached a boiling point and it was eating me alive. I had so much anger bottled up inside of me and my dad just looked at me and smiled.That evil look on his face and that smile was a wake-up call for me. All the anger and hatred that I had inside of me was only hurting me and destroying me and I needed to let it go because my dad sure wasn't feeling any of it, I was the one suffering the most from holding on to all that anger.
I never in my lifetime got a hug from my dad or heard the words "I love you!" from him but I forgave him and went up to him one day and put my arm around him and told him I loved him. Alot has happened since then, so much, so much more. He has passed away and I must say although I loved him, I just couldn't grieve or shed a tear because it was like a relief and THE END to a HORROR STORY!
Some may say that sounds cold hearted, what some of you don't understand is, I'm leaving the worst and ugliest parts of this story out and that's the parts that occured not long before he died.