by Deborah Delgado

Created on: March 09, 2009

I am angry. So angry I don't even want to call you. We haven't spoken since November. I think about calling to see how you both are, but I can't do it. It's the memories. The memories of what happened while growing up with you and dad.

You robbed me, my sisters and my bothers of a childhood. I can't seem to remember very much from my days as a child. It wasn't happy times growing up with you and dad. But I do remember some of the abuse the two of you would reign on all of us. You, mom, were mainly verbally and emotionally abusive, but sometimes physically too. Dad, you really knew how to deal out the physical, verbal, and emotional abuse. After all, it was your house and you were the king.

What's the matter with the two of you? What did we do to make you believe we were horrible children? Tell me what it was. There are six of us. All of your children went to school as expected - no one dropped out. None of your girls got pregnant nor did the boys get a girl pregnant. None of us ever got into trouble with the law or with drugs. So what was it? You two hated each other so much I can't understand why you ever married. Not one of us was planned or wanted. You, mom, made sure we knew that by reminding us frequently that you wished we had never been born. I can't remember much affection from either one of you. I don't understand why you constantly told us we were bad.

Why couldn't I have had a "normal" father? A dad who would play games with me, read to me, show interest in me, or even love me. When was the last time you held my hand, dad, because I can't remember. When Steve brought MJ to the house to meet us for the first time I remember, still to this day, that you gave her a hug and held her hand as you led her through the house. She was just going to be your daughter-in-law. I am your daughter. Tell me what I did wrong for you to never hold my hand.

As I said earlier, it's the memories that keep me from calling you. The memories of the abuse. The yelling and the screaming at each other or us that went on constantly. Because of you two I didn't know what a "normal marriage" was. You made me believe that yelling and screaming were an everyday occurrence when you get married. Maybe that's why I have been married three times. I remember you, mom, always picking on Cheryl. Why were you so jealous of her? What did she do that made you treat her so badly? Hey dad, here's one for you. Your son, Steve, is a wonderful man, brother, and father. He is so sweet, so laid back,

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