Things I Never Told You. (1373 hits)
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Submitted by Bigmike (View user info) at 2007-01-10 01:02:03 EST
Michael picked up the pencil from the smooth polished oak of the desk. He began to write.
"Dear Dad,
I cannot tell you why I decided to write you today. It's been a long time, too long since I've heard your voice or felt the reassuring touch of your strong hand. It's funny, things keep coming back to me. The way you looked as you came walking up the porch stairs, a hard day at work behind you, a hard night of parenting in front of you. We used to all run to the door to greet you when you got home.
I wonder if you can remember that. I'm sure that you can.
I remember standing at the top of the stairs late at night listening to you and your buddies curse and drink as you played cards in the dining room. I remember falling asleep on the couch as you watched Johnny Carson and tended to me while I was sick. I remember the look on your face when I first told you I'd won the Pitch, Hit, and Throw competition in our town as an eleven year old. Too bad you couldn't be with me that day. I was so proud of myself and I know you were proud of me too, even if you didn't say so.
I could see it in your eyes.
I am glad that I am no longer a child though. If I had it to do all over again I wouldn't, that much is true. I am happy with the way things turned out. I am sorry if I wasn't a perfect child. I tried so hard to stay on your good side, even when staying there didn't seem possible. You taught me a valuable lesson about how to raise children, and how not to raise them. I made many decisions about my adult life early, when I had time to think about how I was treated as a child. I swore to myself that there was a certain way I was going to raise any children I might have.
You helped me with those decisions even though you really had no clue that I was making them. Even though you had no clue that your actions towards our family usually were a deciding factor. A motivator, if you will. You were my role model in more ways than one.
We were smarter than you gave us credit for being. I know this to be true. You treated us like kids far past the time we deserved such treatment. I can remember the moment that our relationship "jumped the shark", so to speak. The look on your face was priceless. It was like you were watching your son grow into a man right before your eyes. In a few seconds I went from child to adult.
I could see it in your face. The thought process must have been horrific and shocking for you.
Does it happen like that for all men? It certainly hasn't happened like that for me and my son, your grandson, yet. Will there be a day when a few seconds of dread realization come creeping over me that I have lost my son, my child son forever and that standing there in front of me now is a man I have never met before?
It did for you. Just thought I'd ask how that went for you. Looked pretty painful.
And yet, we went on with our lives, albeit in totally different directions. I can't help but wonder if things would be different now if they were different then. I'm certain that they would be. I can't see how they couldn't be.
I've always wanted to ask you this one thing though. What's it like to be in your seventies? Does a feeling of hopelessness come to you when you finally realize that death is waiting just around the corner. Any corner? Do you ever think that the minute you get into your car, the second that you turn the key in the ignition might be your last? Your last second? Are you surprised when you wake up in the morning and then overcome with depression that you have to get up and somehow make it through the day? Do you ever make it halfway through the day and wonder why? Why you made it? If you will make it through the rest of the day? If you will make it just another hour?
Where is your joy now? Playing cards? Watching porn? Getting a good night of sleep free from the pain that seems to encompass your existence?
I don't know if I should feel sorry for you or happy for you. I don't know how to feel about you.
That's probably part of the problem. It's also why I don't write to you much or talk to you on the telephone.
I can't imagine we'll do much of either after you read this letter. So I just want to say that Ihope you have had a good life, and I hope whatever you have left of it treats you with dignity and respect. Can't imagine it will, but it's a nice sentiment after all, isn't it.
Your son,
Michael"
He put the eraser end of the pencil up to his mouth, parted his lips, and inserted the pencil just beyond his teeth, biting down on the gummy eraser. His eyes scanned to the top of the letter and he started reading. All the while he read, he chewed the eraser and by the time he had gotten to the end, the eraser was in shreds all over the top of the desk.
"Can I send this?" he thought to himself. "Can I possibly send this to him?"
He rose from his chair and started pacing the room. He had never told his father how he felt about anything in his entire life. Why was he starting now? What motivated him to sit down and write thei thing, this letter to his father.
He crossed the room to a china cabinet, opened the glass door on the right, reached in and pulled out a bottle of Jameson's and a shot glass. He returned to the desk and sat down, putting the shot glass next to the letter. He opened the bottle and poured the liquid into the glass, stopping just as the liquor leveled off at the top. He picked the glass up gingerly, careful not to spill it. He raised it to his lips and, in one quick motion, turned the glass upside down into his mouth. He swallowed hard, set the glass down and filled it up again.
He did this six more times in succession.
Then he picked up the letter, folded it neatly and inserted it into an envelope that was on the desk next to it.
He set the envelope on the desk next to the shot glass, picked up his pencil and scribbled "Dad" on the front. Then he picked it up and stuffed it into the inside pocket of his sport coat. He poured himself one more shot, downed it in a gulp, and got up. He walked over to the door of the room, opened it up, and stepped out into the room beyond.
The light was bright. So bright that he had to shield his eyes. His office was dimly lit, so the shock of the bright lights in the reception area always mad him flinch.
"Hello Doctor," Shiela, his receptionist replied.
"No more appointments today Shiela," the good doctor replied. Shiela nodded her head.
"Will you be coming back today?" Shiela asked, knowing what the reply would be.
"No Shiela," the doctor replied.
Shiela nodded her head as if she understood and watched as he walked out the door. Then she picked up the phone and dialed 77, the extension to the front desk.
"He's coming down now," she said to Tommy, who was downstairs getting the company Limo ready to take the doctor on his trip across town. After she hung up the receiver, she sat down and started painting her nails.
She loved cemetery day.
User Reviews
Submitted by sir_cowman (user info) at 2007-01-11 01:49:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Very good.
Submitted by coley (user info) at 2007-01-11 01:14:51 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by goferforhire (user info) at 2007-01-10 12:50:47 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You're a good man, Charlie Brown.
Submitted by I_love_Kracka (user info) at 2007-01-10 09:03:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2007-01-10 08:49:11 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2007-01-10 08:24:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by cshape (user info) at 2007-01-10 06:56:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
"I remember the look on your face when I first told you I'd won the Pitch, Hit, and Throw competition in our town as an eleven year old."
I won that shit as a kid too.
If this similarity is telling, your son is in for a life of success and happiness.
Baseball FTW.
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2007-01-10 05:56:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
The usual well-written Big Mike post.
Submitted by 8track (user info) at 2007-01-10 05:44:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
i thought this was gonna be an incest post from some ubersite fuck but instead it was good
Submitted by deej (user info) at 2007-01-10 05:07:59 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
cool we like, i speak of the 'royal we' as there is no one else here with me
Submitted by Wildman (user info) at 2007-01-10 02:44:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
I thought he might have been in the joint.
Submitted by Amontillado (user info) at 2007-01-10 02:13:51 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
pish tosh poshy poop
Submitted by Beer_bong (user info) at 2007-01-10 01:28:24 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Indeed, spec.
moo
Submitted by spec (user info) at 2007-01-10 01:08:27 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
moo