Dad’s death - 3 years later
October 31st, 2006
It’s been 3 years since my father died - on Halloween 2003 -
and I’m no more close to knowing the slightest thing about even where
he’s buried, let alone how he died or lived after Mom left him.
the date of his death is an irony, since all i’ve heard of him are scary stories
of drunkenness and beatings, all of which I’m too young to remember.
All he was for me was a vengeful ghost of a man who would have left
me to be institutionalized when I was 4 - a haunting spectre who fed
years upon years of anger and rage with no concrete target.
I suppose this is where I claim some reconciliation and/or healing,
but I’m not sure it’s there - I’m not even sure whether I want it there.
I’m too used to the anger.
{observations, life}
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