why did you abandon me? I missed you so much, I missed your voice and your strong arms around me. You could have given me a direction and a way to walk through this life. Now I have wandered alone without knowing who I am and where I belong to. You would have been a firm anchor, a big ship safely towing me towards the open sea, teaching me to play and live, then releasing me to my own journey.
Still I don't know who I am, still I don't know how to love in a masculine way, in grace and truth. I would have wanted you to teach me to fish and to walk in nature in your way. I would have wanted to be like you. Still I feel I am completely lost. You don't know how it feels to be alone.
Thanks for giving me a chance to discuss with you a few times. I have forgiven you, but it does not recompense for the pain and sorrow of losing you. Neither does it make good the sorrow my mother went through. Thanks for the genotype you have given me and for me being a part of you. Probably that is why your quittance feel so hurtful since I have not been allowed to be close to you - the place I would have belonged to. Always when I see you, I realize I desire to be just like you. Now I am not and I don't know how to become such. However, due to you I am a man, a handsome man.
I would have liked to hunt foxes with you and explore the wilderness with you. I would have wanted you to tell me stories about women. Yet you have given me a desire for masculine love, a hunger to love with all of my heart. Our rare talks have given me very much. You have shown me how to be tough and gentle at the same time. Would that I could have grown under your care.
When you left, you could have no idea where it led to: my mother was married several times with alcoholics who further broke me into pieces. By the time I was seven I had gone through three divorces. I have no roots; fear and shame entered my life - I became a shattered nobody. In spite of everything, or maybe just because of what I have learned through it all, I love you, I honor you. I hunger for being just like you.
My Dad, who am I?
My last words:
Goodbye Dad, your Son