Yesterday, as I sat before your siblings, constantly being insulted over and over… on the charge of having my own priorities, or for daring to speak and not just listen as I was categorically insulted in bullet points… as I sat there, in the face of your brother’s blatant, disgusting, foul hypocrisy… for not conforming to some standard template as expected of me (but surprisingly not his own children)… As you sat there witnessing all of it, and not uttering a word, who knows, maybe enjoying every minute of it, you made a choice, then and there. A choice to limit our relationship to one of cordiality.
I’m no poorer with one less aunt and uncle, but I certainly find it ironic that I’m poorer by a what could have been a strong bond with my father, of who I thought I was a carbon copy. But is now reduced by your actions, your priorities and your choices, to a mere formality.
But am I an image of you, I wonder? Would I fail to value the dignity of my wife and own children, before the ego of my siblings and their offspring? Would I turn a blind eye to the pleas of my own creation? Would I value tradition over emotion?
For all that you’ve been to me, over the years Father, none matter as much as this betrayal…