We used to go to church every Sunday as a family. I hated it. Before I was even 4 years old, I had to sit in the pew for an hour while a very sweaty guy talked loudly about things I couldn't comprehend. But, after church was over I would get to play with my Dad. This was my favorite part. I spent time with him doing normal and fun things like playing catch or running around the yard. These are good memories.

My Dad died. I remember that day so vividly even though I was only turning four years old. We had cake and ice cream, a table filled with presents, and lots of young children full of laughter and energy. All I could think about was, "Where is my Dad?"... "Where is my hero?" And I sat on the couch for what felt like hours just staring out the window and hoping he would come back home.

Mom told me Dad was in heaven. I guess she had to explain it in such a way that a young child would understand. But, I never accepted that he was really dead and I never felt like this magical land in the sky was real. If he is really dead then wouldn't God let him say goodbye to me as a ghost or something?

About a year after he died, mom found a new guy. He started grooming me and then sexually abusing me. This was icing on the cake! It wasn't enough for me to lose my loving father, but then I was punished with sex soon afterwards. I felt like such a bad kid. I must have done something really wrong to deserve this. What's worse is that I lost my mother during this period also. I refuse to believe she was unaware of what was going on and I know she felt really guilty about it. So she distanced herself from me. She forgot about my needs. She let this man do whatever he wanted for a couple years.

I miss my Dad a lot. I really do even though I have a hard time admitting that. It is easier to talk about these things on the computer. What I really wish is that I could talk to him again or have some sort of sign from him to know that he is proud of me and that he loves me. If there is a God, why wouldn't he let me have that?