By Pamela OHara
PROMPT — What is Love?
This day is dedicated to you, but you are not here. The only thing that I wanted from my father was that he be here. Be with me. Be a part of me. But he was not. He could not. There are reasons, some good. Vietnam reasons. Work reasons. Success reasons. But I don’t care about the why of his absence. The why of abandonment does not heal the pain it just makes a problem in someone else’s head go away. It lets them no longer need to care. But I care. I still care that he was not there, because it makes me feel unloved. Unlovable. Unconnected to love.
Until you. You connected me. You loved me. At least I think you did. Those who knew you said you did. They said it with all the certainty that they could muster in their broken hearted place. They could not explain how they knew it, what with how you chose to leave us. But they said it again and again how much you loved me. I can feel how I should believe it because I saw how you loved our babies. How you wanted to be different. Be the wildly successful dad who is there. Who is at every game, every concert or recital or performance, in every conversation, at every meal. You were so there. If not in person, on the phone every time, every night, all the time. You were so there for them and for me. I thought you were there.
I thought I broke the cycle and could have someone there for me. I thought I had. I thought I had. I hate you that I thought I had and then you left. You didn’t just leave, you self-destructed. You hated you and so you gas-lighted me. You made me think you were not there. That you did not love me. You said it so confidently. You did not love me. And then you did but only because you needed me. The depression crushed you and I was the only one who could reach far enough down that blackened pit of despair to pull you back. And I would pull and pull and pull until you were back to that safe place where you decided again you didn’t love me. And I would say bye and back in the pit you jumped. But I always pulled you out. I didn’t care if you loved me or not, I always pulled you out. Because what is love?
It didn’t matter if you loved me because I loved you. I loved you. I love you. But you died. That pit consumed you. And now you are gone on this day dedicated to you. And I have to spend the rest of my life convincing myself that you were there.
A lifelong passionate storyteller, Pamela OHara made her first living writing code and is now writing prose. As CEO of Batchbook Social CRM, she was featured as an Entrepreneur on Fire on John Lee Dumas’ podcast and named a Small Business Influencer Champion by Small Business Trends. She spoke on topics such as woman-owned businesses, social media software and work/life balance at SXSWi, WomanCon and the Small Business Summit. She has a BA in English from the University of Richmond and is mother to three strong AF teenagers and a dashing dog Beau who breathlessly drools on her every word. Pamela writes from Providence, RI.
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