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  • Robin WillowMoon

My Father, My Hero

My father will always be the hero of my life. He had a hard life; one of 13 children with a runaway father. He fought hard to make a life out of the ghetto he was raised in, and in doing so taught me how to work hard for what I wanted in life. He also had the added burden of living with my monster, I mean mother. I only saw him cry once when I came upon him alone in the garage. He was crying over the pain she was causing to the entire household. To this day some fifty years later, it still hurts my heart to think of it.




I had one of my therapists ask me where he was while my mother was beating me. Did he know what she was doing? The answer sadly is yes he knew, but I think he felt powerless to stop her. As a result he drank heavily almost till the day he passed away at the ripe old age of eighty-four.



So how does that make him my hero? He taught me how to survive in really hard circumstances. After all, he was married to that monster. He did what he could to survive it, and most importantly, he stayed in that horrible marriage so my siblings and I didn’t grow up without a father like he did. That is a true hero. He stayed in that hell with his children.



So why am I writing about him now? I have come to the point in my healing where I need his support, I need his intersession for me. My father passed over to the other side almost four years ago on New Year’s Eve. His spirit stopped by as he left this earth to say goodbye to me. Being the independent woman he taught me to be, I never wanted to ask him for his help, but I need his strength and support now.



I want him to see what has become of my heart, and to help me to heal it. Help me to heal those old scars that have become adhesions on my soul. I think the other thing I would like him to do, (part of me wants to ask him for the ex’s karma bus to hit him), but I think what I will do, is ask my father to what will serve Mike's greater good, and to appease my human side, make me the ex’s biggest regret in life, not for meeting me, but for treating me like shit all those years, and then just casually throwing me away.




I have come a long way since Mike shattered my heart three hundred and thirty two days ago, and since he passed away in my eyes sixty days ago. I am ready to take the next step in my healing journey - to finally put my past behind me and live in the light of unconditional love of myself and of those around me. Namaste.

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