Dear Daddy Poem by Karen Alc.

Dear Daddy,

What makes me so unforgettable in your eyes?
Yes, I know you've fathered quite a few others
and that I fall somewhere in the middle,
Yes, I know that you're selfish, and it is all about you.
Always has been, but will it always be?

If you're not yet passed away, then the years
are catching up to you, of this I'm sure. Remember what I said to you
when I was 8 years old? You probably don't. That's okay.
I'll remind you now. Despite my innocense and lack
of life experience, my instincts were strong and my savvy
struck like lightening- I think I got that from you. As we visited one of your many mistresses or 'good friends' as they were introduced to me, I remember one day stealing a moment away of were supposed to be my moments with you alone and uttered these words: 'Daddy, one day you will be old and and the only one that will be there to take care of you is me'. The words struck you for a moment and I remember the look of remorse in your eyes as if it were yesterday... if even for just a few seconds, but the feeling was there and it seemed to me that you cared. You were sorry for what you were doing. You were sorry for being selfish. You were sorry for using our time together to portray yourself as a loving and caring father to your many lovers. I was the perfect pawn because my mother had done exceptionally well with me, but you always took the credit.

What would have made the difference for you? What would have made ME different for you? I've thought that I had made peace with it all and I thought that I had made peace with you. All forgiven and forgetten. I have visited your grave a thousand times in my head. And yet, at the age of 36 and with the prospect of children in my near future, I find myself thinking of you tonight, quietly crying and in pain, because all I will have to show your future grandchildren are a few faded pictures of you. Those will be the only memories that I will have to show them of the other half of me. They will never get to experience the love that perhaps somewhere deep inside you are capable of giving. They will never get to see the half of me where my caramel-colored skin came from. 'Cafe con leche' I like to call it- it always gets a smile from people, but deep inside, it hurts like hell to me. Part of me wants to find you, forgive and love you. The other part of me wants to see you, have you beg for forgiveness only to turn away and give you my back.

So Daddy, I guess that the hurt runs deeper than I thought. The wound you left me at your sudden dissapearance from my life is not fully healed. I thought that it was, but alas, I'm wrong.

I hear from indiscriminate sources that you're doing quite well, living on your sun-filled island and surrounded by women who would qualify as my younger sisters if age has anything to do with it. I bet you haven't aged well though. You aren't as good looking as you think, so I thank God for Mami. But you're charming as can be and I know that first-hand. You sure charmed me, Daddy. And then you left. Is it sad that when people ask me about you, I respond with 'Papa was a rolling stone'? Works every time. It's a real good laugh... and a real good cry.

Love,
Your daugher...