I've Come To Realize That Blood Doesn't Make A Family

A letter to my father.

My dear father,
You have been gone a long time now,but I know that you will read that letter,you are reading as I am writing.I wish that I had had the knowledge and confidence to write that letter when you were still alive,but knowledge,confidence and wisdom often appear late in life,but sadly,even if I sound judgemental,you and wisdom followed different paths.You only saw your immediate needs and never pondered where those needs if indulged would take you,years down the track.This is where your lack of wisdom came in.You made choices that were self indulgent and cowardly,although I am sure your awareness was not asleep at all times,but like all cowards and bullies you took the easy way out,enjoying the gratifications you could get,even as you knew you were being taken for a monumental ride by your son and daughter in law.All those birthdays and Christmases I went without so you could save mere pennies,all the cheap meals that you never let me forget you had to provide, the economies of which,years down the track ended up giving comfort and ease to those who cared nothing for you and never had.You died alone in hospital,no one to hold your hand, although those you favoured had never given you any indication that they ever would.But they were adults and I a mere child.And then wisdom caught up with you before the end of your life, I received a letter from you,where you finally did tell me how you regretted your lack of insight and to have listened to the others so much when you should have been a more caring and protective father to me and how lonely you now were and I so far away.You made your choices and those choices affected us all for better and for worse, better for those who despised and used you but not so great for me who by then found myself at the other end of the world and just as lonely.
Your daughter.