Mitchell's Mustard Blog

June 16, 2013

A fathers decision

Filed under: A Little Something — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 2:12 pm

He sat, he thought, he reminisced. If he could live it again, he would change every day, every sunset he missed, every breath. It was days such as today, fathers day, that stopped him in his tracks so he could be reminded of the bad things he had done, the bad things he had spent years trying to correct but had failed so far. He was sure it was never meant to end out this way, the fairy tale lives in stories you heard as a child, they were so easy, uncomplicated. no one ever told you that these stories could never be a reality, The decisions he had made, the paths he had taken, they had led him to this moment, on his own, in someone else’s home, where no one knew his name.
He stared at a father’s day card on the mantelpiece, it held him in a trance. The names meant nothing but the card held other life choices, what could have been, he wondered if his children thought of him, remembered his name. He knew he was a disappointment to many, he never wanted to stop trying to change their view. Etched into his mind were the last moments he shared with his family, his wife, his toddler son and daughter. The last time he heard her voice, the words that crossed her lips, “It’s not fair on the children to see their father like this”. Prison has a way of separating families.
It has been twenty years since he had seen his family, since he had been a father. Twenty years since he had received a card containing the word dad. He knew that the decisions he had made where the reason his children didn’t know their father, but what they didn’t know was that the decisions he had made were for them, to give them a better life, a better future but his decisions had backfired.
He picked the card up to take a closer look, blue crayon scribbles containing the words ‘love’ and ‘dad’ from a child named Tom. The scribbles he longed for, something so simple that means so much. A part of his life he always missed, someone to look up to him, some ones hero. He held the card to his chest for a moment knowing that he will only ever be some ones criminal, or some ones past. That moment, he wished he could change everything but he knew he never would.
He slipped the card into the bag of all the other goods he had taken from this house, he took another quick look around for anything else he could sell before he headed out through the back door, the door he had broken. He always wanted to be remembered or recognised by loved ones, but the decisions he had made meant that couldn’t happen.

Advertisements

Leave a Comment »

No comments yet.

RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

%d bloggers like this: