Friday, July 5, 2013


I finally got the courage to ask my father for forgiveness last night.

It's nearly been a year and a whole month since I took up offenses that were not mine to take and acted unjustly to my father.  Ever since that day, I have been trying to make up for my mistake but always fearing what would happen if I brought it up. 

At first I tried to tell myself that he was in the wrong, and I was trying to protect my sister and be there for her.  She was and is my best friend.  If I were to admit my wrong, I'd be admitting that her pain was wrong as well.  I also tried to tell myself that he didn't notice my semi-passive aggressive words and hateful silence.  But the thing is, my dad and I are the same.  Of course he felt every ounce of my hardened heart.

A week later, I was weeping every night sick with regret.  All I wanted to do was to scream, "I'm sorry!" and take back my childish actions.  I can still see the look on his face when he turned to me for validation and I returned nothing.  I left him alone, and my heart will always break for this.

Finally, it hit me.  How many times have I made mistakes and looked to my dad for validation?  He was and is always there with me to love me and to see me through it.  In an instant, I turned my back on him...something he would never do to me.

It's been over a year of searching for the right moment to say I'm sorry.  Every hug, I squeezed a little tighter.  Every conversation, I dug in a little deeper.  He had to know how awful I felt, right?

Last night, I apologized.  I couldn't take it anymore.  I had to get it out there.

As usual, he was dad.  The ever loving, always compassionate man that he has never ceased to be.

He knew what I had done, he has loved me anyway.

Thank you for being you.


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