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I remembered

Seeing other fathers

Hugged their children

And I wished

I knew him

But I didn’t

And it left me hollow

Without that love



He was a bad man

Very mean man

So they said

He drank, cursed

And beat my eldest sister

This made her harder

Later she defended

Us, three other timid ones



Actually

I never got a chance

To cry for him

But later I did

When I learnt

He died and was buried

I remembered

I buried my head

In my pillow

And wept



He never went far in school

But he read the whole newspaper

And he read a lot of History

For he had a library

On our  old wagonette

With all his schnapps glasses

Which we dared not touch

But all admired them

And his History books



He had a green thumb

His crops came in fresh and full

And he was known for this

Among all the villagers

Yet we were afraid of him

For when he called us

We trembled



We lived in fear

Always trying to please him

My mother kept the best plate

For him and he was

Always pleased

And we breathed

A sigh of relief

Until the next day



He had so much love for the land

And none for us

So much love for reading history

And none for us

Growing up without

A father’s love

Is like growing up

With a handicap

You learn to live with it

But it never goes away



Today I have two boys

All grown up

I spent my life

Living for them

And they are happy

And when I think

Of my cruel father

I wonder up to this day

And still can’t find the answer



We dreaded his home comings

If he missed the bus

We knew he’d be drunk

Then we hid our night clothes

And waited

As he approached

Swearing at us

We hid or

Ran away to his brother’s

And spend the night

Until morning

When he is sober



He never gave me a hug

Never praise me

For my A’s

In my exam results

Never say

I love you

Not to me

Not to my sisters

Or to my mother





I remembered

How he was tight

With his purse

How my mother

Sold flowers

To a priest

And when he came home

He was querying

And I wanted to please

I said, “Pa! Mr Mack

Didn’t come today”

And he stretched his hand out

And my mother had to hand

Over the bit and a half

When he left

My mother picked up

A piece of firewood

And thrashed me

Then she cried

Hugged me

And gave me a gill



Today it comes back

When I see a sad movie

Whose father behaved

The same darn way

When they threw

Their tempatantrums

Hit their kids

Swear at their wives

Yes I cry at the movies

But I never cried for my Pa