I Forgive You Dad
I forgive you Dad – A little history, a lot of misery. My Dad was an intelligent, hard working man who grew up in a strict German family in western Kansas. In his early years like so many young men on farms across this nation he passed the time drinking, but in my Dad’s case it was usually alone. As his family grew so did the stress of providing for them and he started to drink more heavily. My Dad was not a social drinker, he just drank to forget whatever demons tormented him. In time my Dad would become an alcoholic. As his drinking spiraled out of control there were many victims of his physical and mental abusive behavior that mostly centered on my Mom, sister, two brothers, and myself. Since I was the youngest I cannot remember a time when my dad did not drink. As a youngster I learned the very thing that the young should never learn and that is hatred for most things in family life and especially my Dad. I learned only misery comes from those that abuse the drink. As time passes you the victim either succumb to the misery yourself or you figure a way to walk pass all that so it does not eat you alive – in my case I learned to forgive. I forgive you Dad
“I Forgive you Dad”
Looking back sometimes is hard to do,
My hair is gray, difficult, but now I forgive you.
Hatred has finally disappeared, faded away,
Fifty plus years later I think I am okay.
Dad when you drank, demons you tried to slay,
It never worked, they never stayed away.
With words and fist you made our life hell,
Vodka was your demon, you were under its spell.
Nothing ever good came from abusing the drink,
Had you, took over you so you could not think.
Your life ended, spring of nineteen eighty one,
No apologies for the things that you had done.
The years have flown by, now I ask for none,
Within myself, I forgive you, from your youngest son.
Poem by Kurt James
Kurt James © 2016
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The Denver Post, PM Magazine, and 9NEWS, all well-known Denver, Colorado media sources, have highlighted the powerful and evocative work of poet and novelist Kurt James. Focusing on Old West history, Kurt contributes feature articles to HubPages and Creative Exiles, exploring the eerie silence of ghost towns, the thrilling tales of outlaws and gunfighters, and the evocative imagery found in the Rocky Mountains.
Kurt’s early admiration for writers such as Jack London, Louis L’Amour, and Max Brand played a significant role in honing his skills as a storyteller. Twenty-one books (and counting!) transport readers to the Colorado Rockies and the Old West through Kurt’s vivid descriptions; the feel of rough-hewn cabins, the sounds of coyotes howling under starry skies, and the smells of campfire smoke and sagebrush are all palpable.
Find Kurt James novels, short stories, reference books, and poetry—published by Midnight Wind Publishing—in print copies or digital downloads at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Goodreads, and other excellent bookstores; explore the diverse range of formats available.
Currently in production - The 10th book in his Rocky Mountain Series - Lee Moomaw Former Lawman.
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- Riding the Timberline - May 26, 2025
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- As the Years Roll By - November 15, 2023
A very touching poem, Kurt. It takes a big man to forgive someone who abused you so I admire you. It is an all too common occurrence especially with alcohol involved. Well done. I wrote a poem about domestic abuse awhile back..”What I Did at the End of the Street.” I first published it here then later moved it to HubPages.
Thank you John, Going to hubpages to read your poem…..
Most touching and heartwarming. Forgiving they say is the way to healing. God blessed you that you could survive it all and come out alright but of course the memories and the ache in the heart remain.
My childhood is nothing new, sadly there are countless of families that are affected by the effects of those that drink too much. Thank you Rasma for those kind words…
Kurt, did you manage to find my poem “What I Did at the End of Our Street”? It is on LetterPile.
Yes, I did John – and I enjoyed it very much…
Kurt you touch on a sensitive subject, I lived under abuse, sometimes physically, but mostly it was mental, just as bad. Drink flowed in my home, drunkards coming and going, father a gangster, mother a masochist, kept going back for more. Here thinking I guess was she had to do what she did to keep a roof over our heads and food in our bellies. I learned early in life to hate, after leaving that home at the age of 16 and never looking back, I made my way in life. Taking many forks in my road, some good, some bad. It’s now been a lifetime of maturing and forgiving. Even though I hated my father and we kept a distant relationship, never close, I wanted to forgive him. It was a tough thing to do. In my heart and soul I’ve forgiven him, but I always hated him for what he did to the family. I understand too what you and your siblings must have endured, it was tough for all of us kids. I thankfully never followed in his footsteps, a couple of broken marriages, but never a drinking issue. Talking about the past has always been a tough one for me, I’ve penned much of them over the years. Peace my brother.
Vincent, what is sad about your commentary and my poem and intro – is that the older I get I have started to believe that this way of life that shatters families is more of the norm than we would like to think. One question to you my friend. Have you ever wonder that maybe your poetry was born in those days of hatred and misery? That maybe if your childhood was more less turbulent that your words that you use so beautiful and mesmerizing now would not flow like they do. I am not sure of your spiritual makeup, but I like to think it was all maybe for a reason. I think most artist are haunted in some way, so they are compelled to bring some sort of beauty back to the world or so I tell myself. Until we meet again my friend – adios.
Kurt, I was very often alone in my thoughts, fears, tears and pain. So it’s quite possible my Muse entered my soul then and began to work words into my vocabulary which was very limited at the time. But I was infatuated with reading and quite possibly that was the game plan to titillate me with a thirst for the arts. I did take some acting lessons, painted and drew with charcoal and pastels. A mentor taught me at an early age, took me under his tutorial spirit and gave me a hunger for words and study. So yes, I believe my course was set for me at an early age. And being witness to so much sadness and abuse around me, I drew from it and retained it in my memory to be able to express it in my work today. I truly believe life is all about “for a reason” I should have died much earlier in my life, but somehow I’ve been spared for what I really don’t know. But while I’m here, I will strive to be expressive with words that are inspired to pen from my Muse. You sir are definitely bringing beauty back to your world with your photography and verse. Keep up the great work, you have the gift. Adios my friend, thanks for sharing.
Kurt,
This is so beautifully poignant.
Yes, you speak the truth when you say that, “Nothing ever good came from abusing the drink…”.
I am glad you were able to forgive your dad; I, also, was able to forgive my mom. This way feels better, inside. Now, though, I just feel sadness for her.
You delivered your words of emotion so smoothly, and this had such lovely rhythm to its rhyme.
Thank you for sharing this loveliness with us.
Hugssss