When I was just a kid, I was told concerning my father to not let him "buy my love." My father bought me presents. They did not appear to be things my mom did not want me to have but armed with this admonition one night when my father brought home a present for me, an electronic car that moved about when you pressed a button on a cord, I rejected it. It was very important for me to do this. I struggled with it as it created discord in the home and in myself but my vanity won out and I rejected this super nifty gift the old railroad man had brought home that night after work.
It was similar to another incident when I would not go with my mom who was going with dad to another town to shop. I was, again, a little boy, 7 years old, and I was playing with a boy from across the street, an older boy by 2 years or so, I think. We were playing with a boy and I thought I would look big if I rejected the father again and did not go to town. I didn't concern myself with mom's feelings. She wanted me to go but I had to prove myself and I rejected the ride to play with a 10 cent rubber ball and a big boy. My step-sister was home that day and mom felt okay to leave me, I guess. I cried for hours when I went inside and realized what I had done.
I held on to that not letting my father buy my love for all of my life. Now that I am a middle aged man I have nothing and all those who told me not to let anyone buy me have nothing to offer me and I'm bitter. I'm bitter, what can I say. I am homeless and they have nothing for me. They can't help me pay my car insurance or get tags or get my license back. To quote a phrase they are fond of, "what good are they?"
No comments:
Post a Comment