Subject: Dad
From: Your Son
Date: 17 Feb 2021


I've tried so many times to write this letter and had to stop because I get filled with rage every time. Fathers are supposed to be there to protect their children not torture them. My earliest memory I have of your torture is when I was 3. You threw me down the stairs because I called mom a bitch. A word I heard you call her a million times but for whatever reason it was wrong when I said it. Lucky or unlucky for me, mom was there to patch me up.

Then at age 5, you gave me a six pack of beer for my birthday present and told me to drink it or else. Well I remembered what happened when I was 3 so of course I tried to drink the entire 6 pack. I ended up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. The one thing I did enjoy about that day was that the beer made me numb to the pain I was feeling inside and out. How fucked up is that? A 5 year old wanting to be numb.

After that I would drink with you almost every weekend with you. It was like you found friends like you because there would be contests to see which child could out drink the others. And I found out early on that it paid to be a winner because 1 I didn't have to feel, and 2 if I lost I would get hurt. IE a broken jaw and nose.

During that time you told me that you were trying to toughen me up. How the hell is that toughening me up? Watching you abuse my mom, my sisters, and my baby brother. I now realize why I wanted so desperately to be numb. You would beat me up saying that you were showing me how to fight.

Then I remember the first time you raped me. To this day, I can not stand the smell of english leather cologne because of that night. You hurt me in so many ways that you can't possibly imagine. You did make sure I was drunk before you did that though.

It didn't stop there. Then you allowed your friend Red to rape me as well. Not just once but multiple times. I kept looking to you for help and you just allowed it to happen.

When the rapes started, I was drinking with you almost every day. Guess you wanted me drunk to keep me from fighting back or screaming.

Then when I was just starting the 3rd grade, mom decided to leave you and took my older sisters and baby brother leaving me and my other younger brothers with you. What was the first thing you did? You blamed me and beat me relentlessly almost every day. You made sure to not leave any bruises on my face or arms to hide what you were doing. On top of all that, you made it to where I had to be the protectors of my brothers that stayed behind. They still got some beatings and a lot of verbal abuse, but I tried to make sure it was me that received most of it. All the while, still dealing with the rapes of you and Red.

Then you decided to get a girlfriend after mom left. She had a baby and you made it my responsibility to take care of that baby. One time I remember in particular, when I didn't change the baby's diaper fast enough, you made me eat the dirty diaper for dinner and didn't allow me to leave the table until it was done.

One thing was certain, you made sure I had plenty of beer to drink to get me through it. I remember getting into trouble in school almost every day because I would come to school either drunk, hung over, or sick. I do remember you saying you were proud of me for winning fights in school which was a lot. I fought hard because I knew I would get my ass beat if I ever lost a fight.

Then when mom came back to get the rest of us from you around January of my 3rd grade year, I thought we were rescued. She had to kidnap us from school and hide in motels until she got us out of the state.

When we got to where we were going, I was happy for the first time in my life. We were away from you and your abuse. That wouldn't last very long. You found us pretty quickly and immediately moved in.

You didn't even have a cooling off period. The abuse resumed immediately. Although the rapes weren't as often, that was made up for with more beatings and blaming me for everything. All the while still making sure that I was drinking with you and still able to be "tough" and fight.

I remember when you got so mad at mom when I was 10. You told her you were going to kill her. One of my older sisters and I tried to step in. You threw boiling water on her and you beat me unconscious.

When I was 11 mom brought another man to the house. That was the first and only time I ever saw you get beat unconscious. Instead of feeling happy that you were going to be leaving, I wanted to protect you. How fucked up is that? I actually hit him with a 2x4 and all he did was ask me to never do that again.

Throughout the rest of my life, you would only call me when you were drunk and want me to tell you how good of a father you were. Of course being the good son I would do just that.

Then when I went to visit you in 1988, we ended up getting into a fist fight because we were both messed up and I thought I could take you. I was wrong and you beat me unconscious.

Then I visited you again in 1996. All you did was drink, and criticized me because I didn't drink anymore.

1996 was the last time I saw you in person. I refused to let you anywhere near my kids, your grandkids, because I knew in my soul what would happen.

In 2013, I found out that you had passed away. I got a call from one of my younger brothers saying that he had spoken with your then wife and she told him that you died in 2011. I got her number from my brother and called her. She said that you had a stroke while you were at an AA meeting getting a 30 day chip. She then told me that a month after that, while you were in the hospital, you went into congestive heart failure and passed away.

I am glad that you were finally working on not drinking but angry at the same time. WHY IN THE FUCK DID YOU WAIT UNTIL THEN TO GET SOBER?!!!!

I used to want to know why you were the way you were, but I am learning that it isn't any of my business.

All I know is that I stayed angry nearly my entire life because of the shit you did. I am working on forgiveness but know this will take a while.

Goodbye Dad. I hope you are resting in peace.

Love your son.