I'm standing in front of him now, his advice a stone in my stomach. For a decade I have seen the power of forgiveness he speaks so highly of. I have forgiven my father once before and a thousand times over but it was a lot easier to forgive when there was a disability to point fingers at. Now, no longer in his wheel chair, he sits at his desk with thin glasses at the bridge of his nose and a graying beard resting against his navy shirt. I stand in the doorway of his office, holding the box that is damned with the weight of piling evidence against my father's word.
I struggle to keep my deserves under control and explain, "When you missed my graduation I was able to understand why. You had just gotten out of the hospital after the crash and told you would never be able to walk again. I didn't blame you for not showing up. When you weren't at Mom's memorial I forgave you because I knew it was extra hard on you- losing your wife and your independence. I even forgave you five years after the incident when you weren't at the hospital when I had your first grand child. I didn't blame you- I blamed your disability, I blamed the truck driver, I even blamed myself. You didn't come to Janson's wedding last week. I wasn't angry, though- I was worried. Then I found this box in your attic yesterday."
"Kate," my father sighs sadly and gets out of his chair.
"Do not stand," I snap. "How long have you been able to walk again? Were you ever even unable to?" I accuse.
"Honey, let me explain," he begs.
"Yes, an explanation would be very nice!" I demand as I slam the box onto his desk before him. Inside are piles of pictures and post cards, and in each of them my father is standing next to people I have never seen before. "How is that during the years 1995-2015 you were damned to sit in a chair on wheels presumably forever and yet there are post cards of you standing on a street in Tokyo? There's a photo of you skiing in the Alps- something a cripple could never do. What have you been doing all these years?!"
He tries to explain, "Listen to me, Kate. It's not what you think it is- yes I lied. The doctors never told me that I wouldn't be able to walk again. Please try to understand- after your mother died I was devastated and broken."
"Don't put the blame on Mom," I tell him. "This was you, this was your doing. You are the one who abandoned Janson and me. For what reason, I have no idea."
"Kate, I have something wrong with me- that part is true. I don't think the same way you and your brother do, I don't experience or feel things the same way that you do."
I can't believe what he is trying to tell me. I exasperate, "What next, you're going to make up a mental disability for yourself? Is that it? No father, there is no explanation for what you have done. You're a liar." He stands again and starts to walk around his desk but I stop him, scolding, "Sit back down! I hope you're never able to get back up again."
"You won't forgive me this time?" He asks.
"No, not this time. I hope you experience the same loneliness you gave your children when you disappeared on secret vacations. In your rocking-chair, by your window dreaming, shall you long, alone. In your rocking-chair, by your window, shall you dream such happiness as you may never feel."
Author's note:
I'm not sure if this little excerpt of a story makes any sense but I was at a loss when it came to connecting these two quotes. It sounds very sad, the disownment of one's own father and I wished I could have found a different direction but the ending quote kind of restricts it to a melancholy tale. I hope you are able to piece information together and make sense of this :)
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