My Holocaust
My father left when I was two – just walked out the front door and never looked back. I grew up in a world suddenly different than the one my friends shared, shaped by something that had been out of my control, but carrying a pain that stayed with me forever. I spent too many years emotionally crippled, chasing the shadows of ghosts I hoped could fill his space.
I could never erase the longing.
The emptiness lasted a lifetime.
I wish I could explain to my own children why I left their mother, but those words never come out right.
I could never erase the longing.
The emptiness lasted a lifetime.
I wish I could explain to my own children why I left their mother, but those words never come out right.
2 comments:
Sad how history repeats itself. Good write.
you've got my respect. and just because the marriage did'nt work does not mean you were'nt a great role model and good father.
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