Though my dad was not my sexual abuser, he was a pro at other abuse namely verbal and some psyical. I can remember one time when he said he loved me that was on a visit the last time I saw him alive. Seemed like I could never quite measure up to what he expected. I wanted to learn to play football very badly but I was sure that my body looked different than everyone elses because of the SA from his brother. So, I chose instead to join "the girlie band" as he called it. I excelled in chorus and played a fair trumpet. I enjoyed it and didn't have to shower after a concert so everyone would see I was different. When I went on to college to be the first in my family to graduate, he didn't come to my graduation, I could not forgive him for this. It hurt badly. Now at age 58, I have visited his grave, in my mind and in my heart I have spoken out, told him how his brother abused me, how my SA effected my entire life and that of my family. I do know one thing for sure. The example he set did not apply to my raising my own family, I took the time, I encouraged their growth and have 3 of the best kids anyone could ask for. I can look at it now as his loss, I was there just needed a bit of his time and love and the freedom of telling him what his f****** brother and others did to me without fear of being pushed aside.
The roads of life are full of stones but, they can be moved take my hand we will help each other.