Can There Be More? by Heather Catherine Hogan

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If you read my book you know that my father was an abuser. He was an alcoholic and abused me physically and mentally for years. I told many tales of what and who my father was in my book, and the hell he inflicted on my soul. But I also forgave my father, for my father did the best that he could do given his circumstances.

I don't know how many men could have survived what he survived. I won't go into all of it, but he was emotionally tortured at the age of 29. The love of his life, my mother walked out the door on December 31, 1972 around 1:00 pm, in the afternoon, to run to the grocery store and never returned. He got the call that my mother was dead while watching his eight month old son crawl across the floor, my brother, and his two daughters laughing and playing. That would have been my sister and me. We were three and seven at the time.

After going down to the hospital to ID his dead wife he had to come home and face his three babies. All of his friends gathered that evening, not to celebrate the New Year, but to help my father mourn. I was told I kept asking for my mother. Finally, with all of our friends and family watching my father put my sister and I each on one of his knees and told us we would never see our mother again.

My father turned to alcohol. His drunk driving arrests in the last 35 years come in around 28. He is wanted in three different counties in Illinois for skipping out on bail and probation: Kane, Cook, and Lake.

Over the last few years he has come and seen me, lived in Vegas, and simply annoyed me with his rants and raves. He is extremelly biiter, and angry that he lost my mother. He has never gotten over her, and at times still breaks down in tears when he mentions her name.

The last year has been super tough with my father. I have moved past his abuse, but he still at time manipulates and demoralizes me. I just didn't have it in me to call him on Father's Day. It is the first one I have missed. I never stopped talking to my dad, I couldn't do that. I love my father. He is my dad, and like I said he did the best he could.

My father was arrested in Indiana and extradited back to Illinois eight days ago. He is now sitting in Cook County Jail, and I am numb. Me, Heather, the one who always forgives, and knows how precious life is and what every day on this earth means, didn't call my father and now he sits in jail all alone and I am sure is crying, depressed, and suicidal. I don't think he will get out this time or see the light of day outside of Cook County Jail. I am ill.

I will make it right. I will write to him, just like I do everytime he is in jail, I will apologize and I will cry. But it doesn't cancel my cruelty in my silence. How dare I be so cold! I am not perfect and he has tried to be a good father. I should have called!

I am here to tell you, and I have said this before, forgive, love, cherish, nurture, and worship the ones you love, forget past mistakes, move on, live your life to the fullest, never take anyone for granted, and wake up every morning with kindness in your heart and compassion and empathy in your words!