The man who I call Father

this memoir, is about my dad and some of the things he does to me.

Whenever someone sees my dad or sees a picture of him, they think he is intimidating. The way he looks with his short dishwater color brown hair with little specks of grey in it and the way his hair side swipes to the side, his hair just above his big ears and the little scruffs he has from shaving makes him look like he could punch something or someone. He is a very scary man and he has brought me down…a lot. Whenever he talks to me about school, my grades, college basically my whole future he thinks I won’t make it, I will be living on the street! What kind of father says these things to his own kid? I don’t think he believes in me; that I can do it and make it. Well I’m going to show him! My mom has been a great supporter of me because she has lived through it and has dealt with his crap. Now I am going through the same s**t as she did and it’s not fun. When my dad isn’t in a bad mood, he can be really funny and make me laugh. For example, if I talk about my favorite bands or favorite celebrities my dad asks “Do they go to your school?” “Are they in one of your classes?” I just smile and shake my head and say “No dad, they don’t. I wish they did.”

On May seventh, 2014, my dad took me to my orthodontist appointment, the building is tall, pretty big size and I from across the street I can see some stores and some restaurants like Champs. I went to my appointment because I had lost my retainer but my dad didn’t know I had lost it, so he thought it was just a regular check up till my checkup was done and he had to pay $200 for it. That’s when he got mad at me. “If you lose this one, I’m not gonna buy another! I’m done! Your teeth can go crooked for all I care.” He also said, “You waste things Shannon. You’re like a waste.” The whole time he was raging, I just looked out the window, didn’t say a word and sang the song “Brave” by Sara Berellies in my head. I had also thought of a comeback I desperately wanted to say. “If you think I’m such a waste to you, then I can go live with mom. Simple as that.” I really wanted to say this and I was about to, too but I choked up. I was afraid, afraid of what he was going to do or say.

Just minutes after the appointment, we almost got into a car accident. We left the orthodontist building around two-three minutes ago and my dad was already on the phone talking to one of his workers and we came to a four way intersection. It was my dad’s turn to go across but this woman went as well and she almost hit us! My dad stopped his truck, honked his horn and kept moving. The woman didn’t hit us because she stopped in time. After he hung up on the phone, he was still in shock and said to me, “If we weren’t here, that wouldn’t have happened. If you didn’t lose your damn retainer…none of this would have happened.” And he just sighed a sarcastic sigh. He was mad and blamed that whole thing on me!

…

This was last year when my dad talked to me about my grades; I was 16 at the time. I had a D+ in math and my dad saw it, he was not happy, he came home and said, “Shannon we need to talk.” I hate hearing this, especially from him. A lot of things were running through my mind as I walked on over to the kitchen, sat down on the dark wooden stools that had gaps between them. I was scared, and didn’t know what he was going to say but I knew it wasn’t going to be good. While I was sitting with my hands in my lap and my face straight I let him chew me up. He told me how I don’t study, how I’m lazy when it comes to school and studying. He’s basically telling me I’m dumb and stupid but in a way that it’s not straightforward. While I sat there I did take a few glances at him, his face getting red, full of anger, his navy and white striped shirt looks like it could bust right from his chest and for the most part he’s making me feel guilty and bad but for most of the time I just sit silent, stare at an object in the kitchen or out the window and don’t say a word. Sometimes if it gets really bad, I cry right in front of him, when I do that I can feel the tears coming out and I can’t stop them. I just sob, I can’t even look at him as I cry and think of the things he’s telling me because he will think I’m a whimp, a coward. It’s really stressful on me and hard because I can’t get my words out or the words that I want to say.

            After all these years of him raging at me and yelling, I have found strength in myself and soon enough that strength will come up and bite him in the face. I know that my dad loves me; it’s just a little hard to see.

Author's Note

I would LOVE to have everyone's thoughts and opnions.