I Feel Guilty Sometimes....When I was 13 years old,I lost my Dad to drugs.My mom and my father weren't together at the time.They were never married and they never planned to be.I was a mistake and so were the rest of my brothers and sisters.But my parents still loved us.Sometimes I think back to the times when my Dad would call and ask for all of us to come see him and I would cry because I didn't want to go.I didn't want to see my dad.I would run and hide behind something until he would leave then i would come out.I remember one day when I was 9 years old and he came to get all of us to go swimming.I ran to the bathroom and hid in the bathroom closet.He came down the hall and knocked on the door and said "Sissy,please come out? I just want to spend time with you,Baby girl." I never came out.He would beg."Please?! If you don't come out I won't be able to see you till next week." "NO! Go away daddy!" I would scream.When he finally left I would come out and everyone would be gone...but me and my mother.I remember the day he sat by my bedroom door and cried for me.I still didn't come out.The reason i shunned my father is because all the way back as far as I can remember i watched him beat my mom to the point she wouldn't move any more or fight back.I watched him choke her on Christmas day when I was in 3rd grade.I remember crying and begging him to stop.He would tell me that he was just teaching her a lesson and that she would be okay.So I would just walk across the room and sit on the couch till he was done.When he was done my mom would crawl to the bathroom and cry for hours on end.So it wouldn't come to anyones surprise to find that i was sooo relived to find out my mom and all of my siblings were going to run away and live somewhere he couldn't hurt mommy anymore.He always found us and we always went back to him.My dad didn't hate us...He would never hurt us.He used to sit and cry when he hit my mom.He really loved us all...He just couldn't prove it in the right way...or anyway.
The day my dad died I didn't cry.I didn't go crazy.I didn't do anything.I was in shock.
I didn't even go to his funeral.I couldn't face the fact that I his own daughter didn't care enough about him to spend time with him the little time i had.I feel guilty because i feel like a bad daughter. didn't know he was going to die.If i would have...i probley would spend every moment with him...But it's to late now.
I know i'm not a bad person.I was a child.I didn't know that every time i told him i hated him it could be the last time i ever talked to him.I didn't know then that he was doing dope and stuff.I didn't know that every time i yelled and screamed at him he could leave and go shoot up some where and it be that one time that kills him.If i knew then what i knew now...i don't know who i'd be.I used to think that if my mom and dad were still together he would still be alive,but the truth is if they would have been together my mom would have been on drugs to.I could have lost both of them.
I regret everything i said to him.Because the last thing i said to my dad was ,"I wish you weren't my dad!" I never really wished that.I actually wish i could change parts of my past but i can't.I feel guilty because i know i shouldn't have treated him so badly.He knows i love him and thats all that matters.