I HATE MY DAD

On one summer evening in 2009, I still remembered I was watching TV in my mother’s bedroom. My mom rushed in and told me to go to the next room. I asked why but my mom didn’t answer. I followed what my mom said. She turned off the TV and the lights in the bedroom. Then, she walked to the room where I was in. Suddenly, I heard a bang on the gate of my house. Following that, there were screams, and yellings from many people at the same time. They kept banging on the door. My mom embraced me tightly and smoothed my hair. I asked my mom who they were and she said they were my father’s students. Of course, in a mind of a child like me at that time, I had no choice but to believe in my mom. My next-door neighbor was police coming out of her house and telling those people to stop making noise and go home. I am forever grateful for what she did at that time.

Return to my mom, for the first time, I saw my mom crying. And just like that, it has been haunting me for the rest of my life.

Like I said, in the mind of a child, that was what I thought. But when I grew up, after I found out the truth about my father, well, I hate him more than ever. No, I think using the word “hate” is too light. “Despair” is more correct. Yes, I despair him and what he did to me and my family. He gambled. He is addicted to that. The whole family had to pay off the high debt for him.

Now, things are over. He is no longer gambling. My family still welcomes him back and still considers him a family member. But not with me. I know it is cruel when I say this. With me, he had died a long time ago and the image inside me of my dad had turned into ashes. Right now, no matter how much he tries to fill the void inside me, it will never be enough because, inside me, there is no place for my dad. Calling him “dad” is a way of salvation for him.

Coming back to Vietnam and a series of realizing that I hate him.

In June 2022, I visited Vietnam for the first time after 3 years. 3 years with anyone is not a long time but with me or some people, those 3 years are like 10 years or more because COVID-19 has made time longer. After the pandemic was gone, I came back to Vietnam with something new. I am officially a U.S citizen after 6 years and for the first time, I held the U.S passport in my hands and “arrogantly” walked through the Vietnam security gate as an American. I missed my family so much, especially my grandparents. This time I came back was much different than the last time. I really enjoyed every trip, every food, and every love that everyone around had given me.

But with me, the most precious moment was spending time with my grandparents. I returned to the days that I used to be with them before I came to the U.S. They loved me with all of their hearts. He took care of me when I was little. He took me to school every day in his old Honda Dream even on rainy days or weekends and waited for me every time after school. He taught me many good things in life. He bought me everything I wanted, kept every good meal for me and he loves me with all of his heart. And I will never forget what he had done for me. My grandmother cooked every delicious food, worried for me about every little detail, and talked to me whenever I had an issue. Coming back to Vietnam, sitting with my grandparents, had lunch and dinner with them, talking to them. Those were enough for me and for my grandparents. Those moments I would never forget in my life.

But then, it came to my dad, the man that had died in me for such a long time, returned.

Maybe he stopped gambling but there is one thing he never changes. It is his mouth. He still talks a lot and overwhelms me. Every time I want to talk something, he jumps into my mouth and talks over me. What the hell? He talks about everything in this world, he shows off everything that he did. I mean like who really cares about what he said? I don’t care because I call it BS. And I am sure that they never listen to him.

Ok, let’s go to the main point. A series of realizing that I hate him. I felt relief because finally, he knew that I hate him. I congrats him on that. You know, he was supposed to know about that a long time ago. But I guess he thought that I have forgiven him and loved him no matter what. Oh boy, that is very embarrassing. The moment he realized it was the last day I was in Vietnam. He knew about it because of what I did to him during the time I was in Vietnam and I am sure everyone else could see it. It is a punishment for him or karma for him.

The day he went away and failed the whole family

A few weeks before that night, my dad took me to my grandparent’s house and I never realized that it was the last day I met him because in the afternoon when my grandfather took me home, he was not there anymore. Throughout the time, my family tried to convince me that my dad had gone on a business trip in the U.S and he had to go in a rush so he could not say goodbye to me. I could not believe I fell into that lie. I understood my family had to do that because they wanted to keep the nice image of my dad inside me and they were successful. I truly believed my dad was a great man. I usually said that to my friends and I was proud of him. But soon, I sensed something not right. If he went on a business trip, why did he never come back all those times? I mean just one a year to visit me. After he went away, I and my mom moved into my grandparent’s house. He kept giving me hope of one day he came back and took me to the U.S. I was so foolish. Until my aunt who I also called “mom” told me the whole truth about my dad, I began to thread all the things that happened for all those years and I understood my dad was not like what I thought.

Inside me, a flame of hatred started to spark.

He lied to me, he betrayed his wife, he failed his parents, and he became a humiliation of a family. All of those combined had made him a real bad person.

After everything, one thing that everyone told me was to forgive him. They can forgive him but I can’t and I never forgive him for what he did. I abandoned his own son to sink into the fun of gambling. That proved he never loves or thinks of me even once. Because if he truly did, he would not have done that.

I grew up without him next to me. Yes, during that time, I missed him so much. But when looking back, I never truly needed him in my life. I still lived well because each person in my family had replaced him in me and just like that, I didn’t need a father in my life.

When I came back this time, I had to witness a scene that I never thought would happen right in front of my life and that made me hate him even more. That morning my grandfather told him something about cleaning the altar. He said to my dad really normal. But gosh, my dad made it even worse. He made a big scene. He yelled at my grandfather in the worst way that you can’t imagine. Tell you what, my grandfather is 82 years old now and he just recovered from COVID-19 so his health is still bad. One thing led to another, I didn’t remember why my dad said to my grandfather that in my grandfather’s eyes, there are only other two (which are my uncles) and my dad died a long time ago, and then, he declared that he would leave the house after I came back to the U.S. Oh my God, I was so angry and I could not believe he said that to my grandfather. Why didn’t he look in the mirror and ask who he is? Look, my grandparents welcomed him back after everything he did. What else does he want? Instead of yelling at my grandfather like that, he should be grateful. I couldn’t hold it anymore. I wanted to fight my dad but I remembered my mom telling me that no matter what, don’t lose my temper because it would disappoint my grandfather. I hugged my grandfather tight because I was so sad. Why does he have a son like him? Why is it so unfair for him after he forgave his own son? I cried like a baby. My grandfather said. “That’s ok. Don’t cry. I am sad. Your father is educated but lives like an uneducated. We are all disappointed in him. But you are different and we love you. Only a few days left before you go, don’t think about it and be happy for me and your grandmother. Be happy, ok? Don’t be sad.” I could not stop crying after what he said. It was like he couldn’t do anything while my dad was like that. Meanwhile, my other two uncles make him proud every day. My dad makes him worry and upset. How can I forgive him for making my grandparents sad like that?

Blaming me and the flame burned even harder

So after the fight, my dad came to my room and for the first time, he talked to me as a man to a man. He began to say how much he feels guilty about me and my mom. Then he told me about his life right now and how he is lonely. He cried, can you believe it? I didn’t cry because I couldn’t. My tear is not for him.

But it was not the fun part. Now, this is the climax.

On the night before the day I flew back to the U.S, my dad had another conversation with me. This conversation really broke my dam and it pushed me over the barrier of patience. He blamed me for everything.

First, when I had a plan to come back to Vietnam to visit my family, I didn’t tell him. I only told my grandparents and my uncle Viet. Then, they told my dad later. He said that I returned only to my grandparents and my family, not to him. Hello, that was my intention. It was never about him. With or without him, I didn’t really care because I never wanted to see him or be near him. And yet, he blamed me for that. I didn’t need him to go to the airport to pick me up with my uncle. I didn’t need him to ask me what I want to eat. I didn’t need him to take me from place to place. I didn’t need him to tell me what to do or not to do. Why? Because he has no right to do it.

Second, when he was sick, more especially, he caught COVID-19, I didn’t call or text him to ask how he was. Now, he was talking. All right, I told him this. “Dad, where were you when I was sick in the past without you next to me? Where were you when my grandparents were in the hospital in the past? Where were you when my mom had a disc herniate and the pain suffered her badly? Where were you all along?” I made him answer those questions and like I thought, he couldn’t. Besides, I was too busy hanging out with my friends and my cousins in Saigon. There was no time for me to ask him and I knew he could recover from it quickly. Simply, I just didn’t care.

Third, he blamed me for pushing him away from him. I laughed at this. Seriously, the person who pushed me away from him is himself. I hoped he should think about this for a moment about why the distance between me and my dad is so long. Simple like this. The day he went away I was only 9 years old. I was still a child. I needed the love of a father and on the way, I grew up, at least I could have had the love of both mom and dad. But unfortunately, he directly erased himself from my life. Don’t blame me for pushing him away! Where was he when I needed him the most? He said he wanted to make things right and tried to be a good dad. Please, I am not a child anymore. I am a grown-up man. I don’t need those things from him. The time I needed a dad next to me is over. Everyone in the family had replaced his place. Then why do I need a dad?

There is another thing that made me even sadder during the time I was in Vietnam last month. It was that he can remember every single memory with people in my family but none of those has me. Well, it’s understandable though because he was not there. He brought me to this world but he didn’t raise me a day. I have a cousin who is 8 years older than me. I love him. My dad often tells me about the memory he had with my cousin. He said as if my cousin was his son. Not me. I am not jealous of my cousin. I get it. Since I knew what kind of person my dad is, there is nothing for me to be sad.

He left to enjoy his gamble. He only came back when he needed money. He made my mom suffer and sad. As a wife, who doesn’t want her husband to love her? My mom couldn’t have that luck. She trusted the wrong guy who she thought would be her forever. During their marriage, she could count how many times he made her happy less than 10 times. But she couldn’t count how many times he disappointed her. A sea of disappointment.

Blaming me for how I treated him during the time I was in Vietnam is the worst thing that he’d ever done to me. And that declared one thing. I WILL NEVER FORGIVE HIM.

In conclusion…

Forgiving is an act to make our souls easier and relieved. People around usually tell me that. But I realize all these years, I never forgive my dad and my life is still good because I put my dad out of my life a long time ago. Inside me, dad is just a word that I call him every time I see him. The man who I met in Vietnam was a strange man. He was not my dad. I mentioned “my dad” in this essay in a way I want to show my last respect to that man. What I did to him was just simply paying back what he did to me in the past.

What about you? Do you have the same situation as me? What do you do then?