Your Son. (748 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 2 on 14 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Antil (View user info) at 2006-08-17 20:07:56 EDT
By putting this here I'm hoping to leave a part of my past that's reared its ugly head, behind. This is strictly cathartic.
I don't call my old man as often as a son should. And that's not likely to change now. I'm set in my ways. A man that doesn't need to rely on anybody but himself. A man that got mixed up in crime and drugs and came out the other side. A man with a strong will. A decent man. A son. He thinks that since I moved away my life is full, that I haven't the time to call him for women, parties and the rest of that bullshit, but that's so far from the truth I won't attempt to go there. I'd call him every day if his weary voice didn't make me feel homesick and heady.
The traffic was slow on the way home from work today and I called him.
"Who's it?" It wouldn't matter if it was Elvis calling from the 70's. He'd be met with the same reception. He always answers the phone with that line.
"What'cha old man"
"Luke. Luke. Son. Its good t'hear ye. Ya good?"
"Couldn't be better auld man' -You?"
"Thems next door still takin' in stray dogs. Yapping till the early hours. I told them to sort it or I'll knee-cap the feckin jaws offa ye's"
"How d'ya knee cap the ja...."
"You've had a letter come today son. It's hand written. D'ya want me to forward it to ye?"
"Nah. Open it and read it to us, will ye"
I heard him tear open the envelope, followed by silence.
"Hello? I'm not telepathic dad. You're gonna have to read it aloud"
"You should come home, Luke"
"You know I can't do that. What is it?"
"It's your mother..."
I didn't know what to say. Temporarily I was mute. I haven't heard from the woman for 19 years for fuck sake. What do I say to that...?
"Listen, I'll call you when I get home."
"Yeah. Ye do that, son"
She lost me on a cool July evening. We needed her. She didn't need us.
The dirt from my hands had smudged into my face from wiping the sweat from the sides of my nose after playing outside in the sun all day. I heard my auld man's roars boom down the road from inside the house. I stopped playing rounders with the other kids in the street and started to sprint up the road to my house. My mother was stood at the bottom of the stairs with a holdall as I burst through the front door and my auld man was stood in the hallway holding baby Jackie. My grubby hands gripped onto the bag she'd packed with the things needed for her fresh start like I was gripping onto a ledge with a 100 ft drop. Maybe she thinks I was too young to remember. I wasn't. The exact events that took place all those birthdays, summers and shoe sizes ago play on in my dreams. I wake up with white fingertips after a night of revisiting the past. It's like i'm holding on to her as I did when I was seven.
You're the reason I refused to participate in school plays. I got tired of standing on my toes, raising a hand in the air pretending you were in the back row of the audience of parents to save face with the other kids.
You weren't there Sundays to cheer me on at footy - You weren't there to celebrate my winning goal of the cup final.
You weren't there to comfort and nurture me as a mother should.
I thought you'd be there when we put my baby sister in the ground. It burdens me to say it, but the day we buried Jacqueline I didn't cry for her, I didn't cry for myself. The sobs were for you. That was the last time I really, really needed you.
No mother syndrome.
I picked myself up when I fell. I've had calluses on my hands from a young age for dusting myself off.
=========
I got off the phone to my auld man an hour ago. His voice kept breaking while he was reading my letter. He still has feelings for her after all this time. It begs belief.
The woman, at best, has a few months to live. She's ready to meet her maker but wants to see her SON before she goes. She expects me to travel to the other side of the globe so she can say sorry to her son for leaving him. She lost the right to be a mother the day she walked the corner of Howth Road and out of our lives. She didn't try to contact me on birthdays or at Christmas. No letters. No calls. No nothing. Why now? So she can be guilt free. I'm not going to let her have that. The tables have turned and now I'm your penance.
Call me a heartless bastard. Cos I really don't care if the woman's dying. What right does she have to ask this of me after she gave up on me when I was a boy.
I owe her nothing but a thank you for making me appreciate my father. The father that held my life together when his was falling apart.
I haven't said it since I was a young boy, but Jesus Christ, I love ye dad'.
I'm ready to come home.
User Reviews
Submitted by orph (user info) at 2007-10-02 11:27:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by BranDo (user info) at 2006-08-19 08:51:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Go see her and then forget all about her if you want.
It's your turn on tough choices, goodluck.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-08-18 15:44:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
well, I would investigate her finances - perhaps she's going to leave you a large sum of money?
Submitted by I_love_Kracka (user info) at 2006-08-18 15:26:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Go.
She was wrong - you are right.
Maybe someday you will have a kiddo and then you can tell him or her you did the right thing in the end.
This made me cry - however about every 28 days I cry. Natures revenge.
Submitted by alwayspeach1 (user info) at 2006-08-18 11:21:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Your choice of course.
As others have said, do it for your own peace of mind.
Not going just allows her to have power over you still.
Good luck in whatever you decide.
Submitted by paint_it_black (user info) at 2006-08-18 03:45:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-08-17 21:28:46 (#)
Ranking: 2
What the hell can I say? She hurt you beyond belief, and now she wants to make amends. Or, perhaps,
all she wants is to assuage her guilt.
If you ignore her, you may regret it later, when your conscience nags at you. If you see her,
it just might turn ugly due to the past.
What to do? If I had to choose, I would go see her. If it turns bad, at least your heart
was in the right place. If it is something beautiful, you will feel proud.
As I said, I would go see her. This may be the most important thing you will ever do
for your own peace of mind. . . Good luck.
____________
fuck off bubba... you are an old has been,
*
Antil,
that made me feel something inside.
Submitted by moneyshotforyou (user info) at 2006-08-17 21:44:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Excellent writing. I would go. Tough decision.
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-08-17 21:28:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
What the hell can I say? She hurt you beyond belief, and now she wants to make amends. Or, perhaps,
all she wants is to assuage her guilt.
If you ignore her, you may regret it later, when your conscience nags at you. If you see her,
it just might turn ugly due to the past.
What to do? If I had to choose, I would go see her. If it turns bad, at least your heart
was in the right place. If it is something beautiful, you will feel proud.
As I said, I would go see her. This may be the most important thing you will ever do
for your own peace of mind. . . Good luck.
Submitted by Snalty (user info) at 2006-08-17 21:28:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Excellent!
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2006-08-17 21:05:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Feels GOOD to say it though, doesn't it?
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2006-08-17 21:02:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by coley (user info) at 2006-08-17 20:59:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Look, I know I said I was going to work..and I really am..right after I give this a
BIG
FAT
+2.
Sad story, man.
Submitted by UnderOathMeal (user info) at 2006-08-17 20:50:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Absolutely moving.
I have a life story very similar to this one and would welcome communication.
bretd9.at.gmail.com
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-08-17 20:19:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Sad..touching.
I hope that whatever you decide to do, you find peace with it.