I’m sorry for all the agony and stress I cause you.
I’ve always felt that I was the least liked child. My only uniqueness I ever had was being the only boy. Lindsey was the oldest one, the athletic one, the ‘Princess’ of the household, the spoiled one, and the first to do everything which was ‘exciting’. Kate was the smart one, the creative one, the middle child everyone needed to give attention to, even though she created if for herself with all of her A’s and honors. She always was the interesting one to talk to, off doing exciting and fascinating things, off to Europe, aspirations of Architecture, “How interesting!” I was the baby, yes, that also means when it came time for me to do things, the excitement was over, the ceremonies had been attended, the report cards had been commended, and I was left feeling disregarded and worthless.
‘Worthless’ seems to be the best definition of me and my actions lately. I’ve realized I’ve done nothing positive lately, or really ever. What do I bring to this family besides disappointment and stress? I believe my manual labor is handy every once and a while, to carry 50lb bags of salt to the basement, or putting in and taking out the pier every year. Now it seems all I’m capable of is screwing up left and right. My father thinks this is all due to me not taking his advice, his suggestions, and his guidance. I don’t do these things out of spite to him. When he tells me his theories of what is and isn’t ethical, unlike my sisters, I question him. It’s not because I think he’s wrong, I want to fight, or because I’m “cocky” or “arrogant” (all words I know he uses to describe me behind my back). I question his authority to get into his thinking, learn why things are, and hope to understand the motivation behind what makes him do the things he does and how he does them. My sisters, as I’ve observed many, many times, nod their heads and respond “Yes sir, yes sir.” to every word he says. While this is wise, what have they learned? I challenge his thinking in hopes of gaining an once of common sense and logic I know he retains so well.
Of all his friends, everyone of his relatives, I’ve never met one who has had a bad word to say about him. He’s there in every situation someone needs him to help and support. I remember to this day talking to one of his best friends. He sat me down and said as honest as I’ve ever seen anyone’s eyes, “You know your dad is the greatest man I know. I’m mighty lucky to know him.” I of course didn’t know how to respond at the time, just a boy at the age of 12 playing with the coals of a fire. I finally understand now though, people respect him so much that their admiration even flows to his children. I know his friends treat him as family, and would do anything for him and his children. I’m mighty lucky to have that value passed to me.
If anything he lacked I’d say it would be compassion. I always felt he cared about us, but money always seemed to be his priority, “How much does it cost?”, his favored question. My recent accident, which I take total and complete blame for, yes was my fault, but worry of harm to me I felt came up short as damage and cost of the vehicle seemed to be priority. The only time I’ve ever received any affection from this man was the day one of my dogs was killed and I received a hug on my way in the door. I always felt it was only necessary since my knees were so weak from emotions, I fell in the door and into his arms and he was left with no choice. I don’t need hugs, I don’t need words, even a sense of caring some time in my childhood would have sufficed. Lacking in the compassion department, I always turned to my mother when I wronged or hurt for I knew I’d get sympathy, if even I didn’t deserve it. I realize this may have caused trouble to my future being sheltered from the pain I deserved.
I’ve heard he thinks I care of nothing, I don’t retrace my actions, learn from my mistakes (since I make a considerable load), but I do. Failed attempts help me try harder, but at least I’m trying. In his advice, he speaks from experience, which he reminds me of constantly. I understand it, I don’t ignore it, but I realize I don’t always keep hold of it. I’m simply trying to learn to succeed, with his experiences and my own. I can’t go through life having none of my own lessons and expect to prosper from it. I’m not writing this so he’ll forgive me, or give me sympathy. I’m hoping in reading this he’ll understand my motives. All I ask is him to not look down upon me. I don’t want him to think I’m not trying, not thinking, not struggling to become the best man I know. I could have no better example.
‘Worthless’ seems to be the best definition of me and my actions lately. I’ve realized I’ve done nothing positive lately, or really ever. What do I bring to this family besides disappointment and stress? I believe my manual labor is handy every once and a while, to carry 50lb bags of salt to the basement, or putting in and taking out the pier every year. Now it seems all I’m capable of is screwing up left and right. My father thinks this is all due to me not taking his advice, his suggestions, and his guidance. I don’t do these things out of spite to him. When he tells me his theories of what is and isn’t ethical, unlike my sisters, I question him. It’s not because I think he’s wrong, I want to fight, or because I’m “cocky” or “arrogant” (all words I know he uses to describe me behind my back). I question his authority to get into his thinking, learn why things are, and hope to understand the motivation behind what makes him do the things he does and how he does them. My sisters, as I’ve observed many, many times, nod their heads and respond “Yes sir, yes sir.” to every word he says. While this is wise, what have they learned? I challenge his thinking in hopes of gaining an once of common sense and logic I know he retains so well.
Of all his friends, everyone of his relatives, I’ve never met one who has had a bad word to say about him. He’s there in every situation someone needs him to help and support. I remember to this day talking to one of his best friends. He sat me down and said as honest as I’ve ever seen anyone’s eyes, “You know your dad is the greatest man I know. I’m mighty lucky to know him.” I of course didn’t know how to respond at the time, just a boy at the age of 12 playing with the coals of a fire. I finally understand now though, people respect him so much that their admiration even flows to his children. I know his friends treat him as family, and would do anything for him and his children. I’m mighty lucky to have that value passed to me.
If anything he lacked I’d say it would be compassion. I always felt he cared about us, but money always seemed to be his priority, “How much does it cost?”, his favored question. My recent accident, which I take total and complete blame for, yes was my fault, but worry of harm to me I felt came up short as damage and cost of the vehicle seemed to be priority. The only time I’ve ever received any affection from this man was the day one of my dogs was killed and I received a hug on my way in the door. I always felt it was only necessary since my knees were so weak from emotions, I fell in the door and into his arms and he was left with no choice. I don’t need hugs, I don’t need words, even a sense of caring some time in my childhood would have sufficed. Lacking in the compassion department, I always turned to my mother when I wronged or hurt for I knew I’d get sympathy, if even I didn’t deserve it. I realize this may have caused trouble to my future being sheltered from the pain I deserved.
I’ve heard he thinks I care of nothing, I don’t retrace my actions, learn from my mistakes (since I make a considerable load), but I do. Failed attempts help me try harder, but at least I’m trying. In his advice, he speaks from experience, which he reminds me of constantly. I understand it, I don’t ignore it, but I realize I don’t always keep hold of it. I’m simply trying to learn to succeed, with his experiences and my own. I can’t go through life having none of my own lessons and expect to prosper from it. I’m not writing this so he’ll forgive me, or give me sympathy. I’m hoping in reading this he’ll understand my motives. All I ask is him to not look down upon me. I don’t want him to think I’m not trying, not thinking, not struggling to become the best man I know. I could have no better example.