A Daughter’s Plea

“Jot down the first thing that comes to your mind.”

“By now you should have three kids,”
he said, pity pasted on his folded face.
“From where, father? So they can have
a replica of father I have? Not present
mostly? And if present ,a father that cuts
flowers off them reminding them they’re
useless while at it? I had to learn the hard
way, that I attract men like my father.
Having a man like you to bear a child
with is my furthest desire. I know the apple
does not fall far from the tree, but I’d rather
my children use their strength and time
to grow even mightier, like an oak, than be
weighed down by all the baggage you
put on my back. They never should go
down holes I almost got drowned in, feed
likes that choked me in blackness. They
should never taste the vileness of words
that came from people I should have not
been loving in the first place, all in the
name of to love and hold. Where
did I learn all these from dad? From
my home, from you. Bare minimum
is what you dished out and that was
what I knew was the norm and when
served I devoured it yet I gave my all.
Mum taught me that, giving your all.”

I bow my head as if in prayer, only that
shame is pressing down on my crown that
I can’t hold my head high. “Father, yes
I do want children. Not because am of
age. Not because it’s the norm. Not
because others are having them. Not
even because they’d be a ‘perfect nest egg’.
My kids will so help me God, will be a product
of love, from a man who loves truly
and loves (me) for all the right
reasons. A man who’s presence would
be a gift for my bundles of joy. A
man of substance not one enamored
by substances. A man who’ll show them
what it means to love and be loved
by a man, the right way. Not by
hooks and empty words. Father, those
kids you mention deserve so much than
I ever had. That is why I have no three
kids to my name. I have baggage to dump.
I have packages to return to sender. I have bombs
to disarm. I have healing to continue
to do, the only elixir that would break
this father’s curse. So allow me to continue
on this journey before I bring you grandkids.”

Obviously I couldn’t muster the courage
to let these thought out into the ether:
It’d be a loaded gun ready to do damage.
Instead they turn and twist in my mind,
flowing into my heart marinating even deeper.
Sigh!
I know better. I’ll do better. I am even
a much better human now than I was then.

“Heal, heal, heal. HEAL!”, I whisper to self.