7:30 a.m. - 06.16.2003
Father's Day
My cousin Kevin is in the army, and right now he's in Kuwait. We've been e-mailing back and forth for a little while now. And since I just got my digital camera back, I thought it would be nice to take some pictures of his brothers and sister and other relatives to send to him.
So I decided to go to church yesterday. My Auntie Mikki, Auntie Peaches, my cousin Isaiah, and my cousin Mia all go to church together every Sunday. And then go back to Auntie Peaches' (Kevin's and Mia's mom)house.
Church seemed like an okay idea. [Even though yours truly is agnostic.]
I spent Saturday night at Mia's apartment. We woke up late, but still made it in time for a lot of the service.
The choir sang, and they were great. That's the one thing I love about church: the music. Won't ever buy that shit on cd, but I can jam to it live.
Then the preacher came in.
And I conveniently forgot that it was Father's Day yesterday. His sermon was about fathers.
He was talking about how sometimes fathers get a bad rep.
"There are some good fathers out there." Blah, blah, blah.
I was so tired since Mia and I were up late last night, and I kept yawning. When I yawn, my eyes start to water. I swear, I was yawning so much it looked like I was crying.
Then, I told Mia I was going to the bathroom.
I walk to the basement, into the bathroom, in the stall, and close it behind me. The tears just start flowing and flowing.
Some good fathers out there? How am I supposed to believe that? I don't want to. I choose not to. My dad isn't here. My dad left me. I haven't seen him for 16 years, and those fews years I did see him - I don't even remember him at all.
Don't tell me about the good dads. Don't even. I don't want to hear it. My dad is an asshole. And I'm a little bitter.
And I want to be over it. I want to move on. But it's hard sometimes.
Like on Father's Day.
