A horrifying thought flittered across my mind, “ I need to write a letter to my father,” and it is like a thorn that won’t leave me alone, a bug, a thought I can’t swipe away, or flick back to where it came.
It arrived like an unwanted guest and refuses to leave until I entertain the idea.
I am not sure I will send the letter or if I can write it, but it seems that just as I silently left my mother, I also stopped cold any interactions with my father on December 4, 2004.
My letter to my mother had to inspire this thought.
My body trembled in terror back then and I haven’t addressed this man in any way, other than honoring the feelings of wanting to remain far far away.
I haven’t explored in writing the dynamics between him and I, instead letting the words abuse and rape gloss over and suffice.
Just not sitting down in the middle of what that feels like to a little girl.
What will I say?
What needs to be said?
What thread needs to be followed through to its completion?
What is odd to me, is that I have never once thought of writing a letter to him, yet in the past I had a few letters started to my mother, but never ever have I begun one to him or even considered one, until today.
And I even thought to the point of sending it and finding the address to my sister’s house where he lives.
I am sure this is the natural progression that follows the one I sent my mother, although perhaps this could be one to both of them, the final good-bye, a swan song to my parents.
Part of me is afraid to write this.
There is a part of me that is afraid not to write it as well, for a gift may get left there unopened.
Many years ago I began a letter but it so enraged me I had to
stop.
Is there something I feel needs to be said to give me peace?
I wonder if the swan sings to die in peace?