A Letter of Remorse

Father,

When we are young we have yet to be exposed to how cold the world can truly be. Though this ignorance is a protective gift, it also makes us blind and seemingly uncaring. The pain you once felt has transferred to me, as I now understand how heavy and broken your heart and spirit felt many years ago. I now understand that even when both emotional and physical pain sat on your back and slowly crushed you, you still woke up everyday and did anything to make your indifferent and often angry family feel comfortable. You did not require a thank you or any loving gesture, and you never received one. In fact, you received the opposite and I am forever sorry.

Each day you worked and proceeded to return home with cracked hands that ached accompanied by a dejected look on your face. Your eyes were always cast downward. It has been said that the heart can heal physical pains, but I know this would have been hard for you. Your heart never received love from your family and therefore was damaged. What you received was silence, not only from me but also from your wife who never spoke to you but screamed. This is probably why you never looked up; there was nothing to look up to. Your life was devoid.

You worked everyday except for Sunday. Sunday was the only day you did not have to force your fatigued body to go through the motions, but you did not rest. Your heart was too big to rest. You are the only member of our family who ever truly felt the cruel cold. You would rise before the sun, and when the night was still black and unforgiving you forced your tired hands to create a fire to warm your hateful home. I would then rise, accustomed to the warmth, and I would greet you with silence. I would wake up and dress, I would grab my clothes and my shoes that you polished every Sunday morning without complaint, and I would proceed to focus my attention on people and things that I felt were meaningful. Sadly this did not include the only person that took care of me, the only person that would fight off the cold, and the only person that would sacrifice himself for my goodwill. Instead all I wanted to do was to escape that angry house, and your forlorn face that I never once appreciated. For I was young and naïve, and I could not understand your sacrifices and the pain you felt.

Mother would complain that you did not do everything you could for our family. She said you did not express love for our family. Apparently giving everything you had was not enough, but I now realize that she was both deaf and blind and so was I. Your saddened eyes, the bruises on your hands, and every action you took spoke the works, “I love you.” You were ok with being abused and miserable as long as you could care for your family that you loved beyond all else. I therefore thank you for every single day that you woke up and went through agony so your family could continue to live a comfortable life and proceed to take you for granted. We depended on you and to survive, and you never once let us down. For that I owe you all the love in my heart.

Sincerely,
Your son