Three Questions For Dad
One.What is your favorite color? Maybe it was blue, green, or red.Mine is purple. But you'll never know that. Two.Are you left-handed or right-handed?I was born left-handed.But I was told being different was wrongSo, I am right-handed. Three.What do I do now?Now that you are gone,a piece of me is empty.I am lost, without having been found. Ten years of my life I spent thinking the man drinking in the garagewas my father.Thinking he’d rather drink than think about me.Ten years go by and now he isn't. Ten years of wondering if my father would come to my soccer game.Ten years of disappointment when he never did. Ten years of cleaning up his mess when he got too drunk and angry.Just to find out he isn't even my father. As children, they used to ask usWho is your hero?Other kids would say firefighters, copsAstronauts, celebrities, mom, dad, brother, sister My answerIs me. I was ten when I found out you passed, dad.They told me it was heart problems.I believed themI trusted them. For ten years I had lived a lieDad was dad and mom was momMom is still momBut my dad is dead. I was fifteen when I attempted suicide for the first time, dad.They told me you committed suicide.I hated them.They lied to me, again. I've spent the past two years trying to figure out who I am.All I know is who I am not. I am not the daughter of an alcoholic.I am not a failure.I am not who they want me to beBut at least I know it's okay to be different.And you know what, it's okay to not have a father.