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Forgiving the Father Who Abused Me
By: David Carter
I came into this world on September 21, 1981, as the youngest of three siblings, with an older brother and a sister who were five and seven years my senior. We grew up in a quaint town named Crestview in northern Portugal, where my mother held down the fort while my father spent most of the year working abroad. He’d only return during Christmas and summer breaks, which I quickly learned to dread.
My earliest memory of him? Well, it’s not one filled with warm sentiments. At just four years old, I recall the sting of his fists and the sound of my own sobs as he lashed out. I can still picture the bruises that marked my small body and hear my mother’s desperate pleas for him to stop. This man, whom society deemed my father, offered us little love, turning our holidays into scenes from a horror film. I lived in constant fear—not just for myself, but for my siblings and my mother too.
Then came the day my mother reached her breaking point. She announced she could no longer endure the torment, and with that, our escape began. I’ll never forget the terror of sleeping in a car outside a police station, too afraid to go home because he had taken everything from us, including our sense of safety. But my mother assured us, “Don’t worry. I’ll always protect you.” And she did. She fought fiercely for our well-being, ultimately securing a divorce seven years later. My brother and sister worked tirelessly to ensure I had the opportunity to study. Our family’s sacrifices were immense, but we felt liberated and, for the first time, truly happy.
Fast forward about three years—we received news that he had passed away from a heart attack. My mother, siblings, and I attended his funeral, not for him, but for ourselves. I approached the open casket, looked at his face, and thought, “Rest in peace. You were never my friend, but I forgive you for all the pain you caused us. I forgive you for not being a father.”
Forgiveness, I realized, is what elevates us as human beings. It’s what distinguishes the good from the bad. Without it, moving forward in life becomes nearly impossible. Letting go of the hatred I held for him transformed me into a better man. It was a painful process, but essential for my freedom from the trauma of my childhood. I even found a way to forgive myself.
Interestingly, everyone contributes positively to the world in some way, and he inadvertently led me to cherish my wonderful siblings.
But let’s not forget that every story deserves a bit of sweetness. My mother discovered love again, a man who embraced us as his own. He brought laughter into our lives, often reminding us, “We are the richest family in the world because we laugh every day!” He loves my mother, my siblings, and me. This man is my true father and a loving grandfather to my children.
Life has a way of surprising us, doesn’t it?
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Summary:
David Carter reflects on his tumultuous childhood marked by physical abuse from his father. Despite the trauma, he learns the power of forgiveness, not just for his father but for himself, and ultimately finds a new father figure who brings love and laughter into his life.