Harrassed by the Red-Faced Bull

"You know what Judy? Either I am going to commit suicide, or I am just going to have to kill you!"

Words repulsively spoken by a father to a mother...

Words no twelve-year old should hear...

But I did.

On that day, March 31, 2000, the ticking bomb that had dwelt within the Magnin household finally detonated. Not only did these twenty-two words tear apart a family, but ultimately they left a young boy with wounds that may never heal, questions that may never be answered, and a desire to be the loving father he never had.

Reflecting back on my childhood, it amazes me how very little I noticed the brewing storm between my parents. Despite the petty arguments-turned WWIII, the constant mood swings of my dad, and even the occasional physical abuse my mother suffered at his hands, I still remained oblivious to the fact that our family remained far from perfect. These thoughts evaded me throughout my childhood, more of a reason for all the unanswered questions that remained inside my heart in the aftermath...

"Why does my dad act the way he does?"

"How can he not realize how unhealthy his behavior is?"

But by far, the main question that nags at my mind is... "Will I end up like him?"

That, above all else, remains my biggest fear. For as most of the educated world knows, children inherit many of their parents characteristics and personalities because of how we grow-up watching, studying, and wanting to be like them. So I guess in my case, the question for me would be, "Will I inherit my fathers ruthless temper along with his uncanny ability to never admit that anything is his fault"?

In a word...no.

In my mind, I witnessed a perfect example of how not to show love to others, and I promised myself long ago to never turn out the way he is. I witnessed the mistreatment of my mother, and have made a vow to treat my future wife double the love that she should receive, because that extra love shall be done in honor of my mother, who never received it from my father unless it was purely for his own selfish motives.

As the years have gone by, and I have transformed into the adult I am today, I look back and in an outlandish way, thank my father for the scars he left on my heart. For if it had not been for him, I would not cherish the love that family and friends bring to my life. To say that my dad and I might one day have a decent relationship, I can honestly say I highly doubt it. People may tell me that I need to forgive and forget the mistakes he made. I have no problem with forgiving him, but I don't think I shall ever forget. I know that I have been forgiven by many (especially God) when I did not deserve it, so I have no reasoning to not forgive him.

Yet, the other argument is, why forgive someone who has not changed their ways? It would be like forgiving a murderer who still murders. I don't believe God forgives someone who commits a murder, asks for forgiveness, and than goes out and murders again. And even though it saddens me very deeply to know that my father and I will never be able to engage in a normal, healthy relationship without a little bit of tension, I do not lie awake at night and cry about it. He lost the trust and love I had for him, and until he is willing to admit his mistakes and change, he will forever remain to me just another tempered red-faced bull.