Starting Over
The first thing that I would change about my life, were I able, would be my dad’s attitude toward me, which, if I am to be realistic, would require that I had a different dad. It would have to be a different dad, because the one I had was a real asshole in some regards, and that was just who he was. There was no changing him.
My dad was married to another woman and had two sons with her, before they got divorced and he married my mother. My mother bore my two-years older sister and me to him. I was named after an uncle on my mother’s side, as my oldest step-brother already had his name.
He was a very mean dad, especially in my earliest years, and he was a menacing, angry type of drunk when he’d drink too much.
Once, when I must have been around three years old, he had come home drunk and smacked me around for no reason. I had this toy bow and arrows set, (with the suction-cup tip), and when he went and passed out on the bed, I stood over him with my bow drawn, an arrow in place, and I wished it was a real arrow.
That’s not why I would have replaced him as my dad though.
I would’ve replaced him as my dad because, beside the fact that he was mean and violent; as a dad, he was absolutely worthless. I never got from him, what dads generally try to give their sons; their encouragement, their interest, and their time. My dad made it quite clear that I was not worth any of those fatherly gifts.
Where this hurt me the most, was in my pursuit of sports. My dad thought sports were a waste of time. He didn’t watch any sports, and the only things even remotely designated as “sports” that he would watch, were wrestling and racing.
When I played little-league baseball, I had to find someone else to drive me to the practice field and to games. I had no “dad-coach” to help me develop as an athlete.
I had a dad who told me that my wanting to play baseball, (or any sport), was a waste of time. In fact, everything to him was a waste of time, if it was something I was doing, and especially if he, as a father, was expected to do something to support me.
I really feel that if I’d had a dad who would have worked with me and encouraged me like a real dad does, I might have had a career in sports. Without it, my pursuit of sports was tougher than it should have been. More frustrating than it should have been, and less beneficial than it could have been.
Starting Over © free-reign 2020
This is my entry for the Power House Creatives contest hosted by 
Thanks for reading!
Sources for images used in this post:
Public Domain photos are from Wikimedia Commons
Baby: Image by Cheryl Holt from Pixabay
Drunk Father: Image by George Bellows / Public domain
Little League Kids: Image by Maurisa Mayerle from Pixabay
