I didn’t want to be your grandfather, but somehow I turned out to be just like him.
To my always son,
You’re reading this because I am not there right now. It isn’t fair. I know it isn’t. I didn’t want to be your grandfather, but somehow I turned out to be just like him.
I’m looking over my shoulder at you lying on the floor with Shadow and Sigil, our two Husky pups. They’re sleeping next to you. Shadow is snoring like crazy. Sig is watching out for you with a wild eye. He’s the parent you should have had when you were old enough.
I made sure you had some fur siblings to comfort you because I couldn’t bring myself to have another child. It sounds cruel and harsh, but you might not be able to understand what I’ve been through in my life. You see, you were quite the miracle in the first place.
I could tell you all the excuses I’ve had in my life. I was abused when I was young. I was afraid of commitment. This family line wasn’t worthy of continuing.
Yet, when I look into those baby blues, I see I was wrong. Oh so wrong.
I might have been a man to conceive you, but I am not man enough to have you and teach you what I know. I am not worthy enough to let you know what happened to your grandfather and grandmother. I am not worthy enough to show you the damage your great grandfather and great grandmother did to us all.
I am not man enough to stand and take the challenge. This is why I bought the pups to at least teach you that love is sacred, even if your siblings have fur and teeth and smell like stale kibble and dirt.
I can’t be there for you because you don’t exist in my reality. Somewhere, somehow, in another reality, you are my son.
You would be the tribute to how far I have come. You would be the ideal of my healing. You would be the pride and joy of my damaged and battered life.
Instead, you are just a dream. A wisp. A thought in the night when consciousness fades and I can travel to your reality and see you swaddled and cuddled with your two furry siblings.
I can’t be there right now, but I know you are in the hands of those who love you. I know you will be an amazing man who never understood the cycle in the first place. You’ll have your own family one day, and you’ll be blissfully unaware of the carnage your father went through as you look at your own son lying next to his two fur babies and wondering what your lineage really is.
Until then, sleep well and know you are loved and missed by those fathers you never knew.
– Your elsewhere father
Photo Credit: Daria Nepriakhina/Unsplash
This post was originally featured on My Loyalty is Killing Me.