I wonder…

 I wrote this a while ago, but a comment that was left on previous entry got me to thinking and this piece kind of sums up why it has been so hard for me.  Recently my aunt told me something that she thought would make things easier for me to understand, but I am not sure if it did more damage than good.  My grandfather was a son of a bitch to my father.  He always made my father feel like shit, and was extremely verbally abusive.  My father was like the black sheep of the children.  So my aunt tells me that my father was the result of a one night stand that my grandmother had with another man.  My grandfather forgave my grandmother and agreed to raise my father.  I guess he thought he would be able to do it, but unfortunately for my father, he wasn’t treated like the rest of the family. My father always seemed lost and hurt.  He was such an amazing man.  All the neighborhood kids loved him.  He was funny and just the type of man people wanted to be around…when he was sober.  He was fascinated with Chinese culture and taught himself how to speak and write Chinese.  He was a computer wiz.  He held a black belt in Kung Fu.  He played the trombone and the piano, and even performed with Tito Puente.  He was also a drug abuser, an alcoholic and extremely violent toward my mother when he was under the influence of either.  I loved him more than I will ever be able to express.  There is no poem that can do my feelings justice.  His death left me with a gaping hole in my heart.  What my aunt told me explained why my father seemed so damaged, why he always felt like he wasn’t good enough, and it explained the pain in his eyes.  But it also left me with a sense of feeling lost.  Who is the man that fathered my father?  Where do I really come from?  There are family members that I realize now are not even my blood family, because I really have no connection to the man I thought was my grandfather.  My grandmother died last year and took this information to her grave.  I am so mad at her for that.
My father died alone in our apartment.  He pounded on the walls for help, but there was always chaos coming from our apartment so his cries for help were ignored.  He called me the Friday before his death and asked me to come see him because he wasn’t sure he was going to make it through the weekend.  He always cried wolfe like that.  I didn’t go.  He died on Monday.  My soul has never recovered. 
He gave me life...but left me broken.

He gave me life...but left me so broken.

I wonder why you loved me

But I didn’t feel it

I wonder why you wanted to nurture me

But killed me instead

I wonder why you hit mommy

And didn’t think you were hurting me

I wonder why you stood out all night

But were too tired to read me stories

I wonder why you did God knows what drugs

When they told you

You were dying

I wonder why you drank so much

When they told you

Your liver was drowning

I wonder why I wasn’t enough Daddy

Why my pleas fell on deaf ears

I wonder who hurt you Daddy

Who caused you so much pain

I wonder what you were running from

I wonder

Did your Daddy hurt you

The way that you hurt me

I wonder

Did you think of me Daddy

When you were dying

I wonder Daddy

Was I your last thought

I wonder why I need your arms around me Daddy

More than I’ve ever needed anything before

I wonder why I can’t accept your death

I wonder all these things Daddy

Things I will never know

I wonder why

14 Comments to “I wonder…”

  1. This is alot of pain. The night my great-grandmother died, my grandmother came and asked if I was going to come to the hospital. At this time, she was still alive and as I was told, was in alot of pain. I will never forget it was a Wednesday night, I was 12 years old. I responded and told my grandmother that “I will go tomorrow instead.” I was afraid as well as too busy playing my GameBoy at the time…trying to escape reality. Up to this day, I still grieve. I never got to say goodbye to my great-grandmother 😦
    It seemed like your father was trying to escape reality all the time.

    • normally one is glad when someone can relate to their feelings…but in this case i am not. sorry about your great-grandmother. =(

  2. i love the emotions…
    i like how you put everything out there..

    I wonder why you wanted to nurture me

    But killed me instead

    i really like that…
    good work!!
    from pain and sadness come our greatest work?

    • Yes, pain and sadness do inspire creativity! Art can be so tragic yet beautiful when the artist allows himself to bleed.

      Thank you for taking the time to read!!!

  3. Wow, this had a good tug at my heart strings…I am sorry for what you have or are still going through. The fact that you are able to externalize whats hurting within is admirable, many people don’t and end up dying inside…

    Your honesty, courage and strength is respectable and the way you are able to share it is a true gift. I have no doubts that your questions will be answered and you’ll find the light at the end of this dark tunnel…

    In my prayers…take care.

  4. There is a lot of pain in this piece, understandably so, however the best thing you are doing right now is facing it. Please, continue to face it, continue to wrestle with it, and continue to express it in healthy ways such as your writing.

    When you feel this pain leak out of you in unhealthy ways, such as substances, unhealthy relationships, and the like; remember your father and know in your heart that he, nor your grandfather or grandmother would’ve wanted you to repeat the kind of mistakes that were made in the past.

    It is okay to feel pain, and it is okay to express it. However, pain should not be allowed to consume you so that it poisons the positive in your life.

    Please, please remember to meditate on the positive everyday.

    • I am so blessed in so many other areas of my life… but I believe I will continue to mourn the loss off my father forever… it has been 17 yrs since his death. Sometimes I look back on my poems, and I’m like DAMN this shit is depressing! But on the contrary…it is the release of these emotions that enables me to deal.

      Thank you, as always your feedback is much appreciated!!!

  5. This was so touching it brought tears to my eyes. Perhaps it could be from the bits and pieces of my own dad that I could see in your writing about your dad. The pain and love were both so powerfully felt and losing someone who made such an incredible impact on your life is something you never truly recover from, but it makes you stronger and better able to express in the long run, if you’re lucky. Clearly, you are one of the exceptionally lucky ones. Thanks for sharing this…. it has made me reflect something fierce and miss my dad something awful. I’m calling him today.

    Thank you for sharing your heart, Vanessa.

  6. I am happy it inspired you to reach out to your dad and connect with him. It is something so many take for granted…a loved one being just a phone call away. We are all born into this world with love in our hearts. Unfortunately, we are not in control of the hands that are there to receive us. Either the love is stripped away, or it is nurtured. I forgave my father because I understood who he was at his core… and I understood his demons. I loved him unconditionally. Thank you as always for taking the time to read my thoughts!

  7. ‘Your willingness to look at your darkness
    is what empowers you to change.’

    – Iyanla Vanzant

  8. Tears came to my eyes when I first read this. I feel sadness in your words. Please keep sharing.

    – Oculus

    • So happy to see you here! It is my privilege to share and have my words read… and felt. Thank you!

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