David S. JordanJulie HicksEnglish 1100-H0201 October 2011The Sin's of a Father

What is a belief? What is a belief that is worth believing in? What evidence do you need to have in order to justify something as a belief? All of these questions I have asked myself. I know that a belief is something that is at a persons core, something that a person lives by, something that a person embodies. With this knowledge of what a belief is, I can say that I believe in the power of observation. Observation to me is a way to uncover knowledge; knowledge about someone, someplace, or something that is not freely exposed. Observation is a science that takes work, you have to dig and etch and burrow your way in until it finally gives way to the knowledge that you are seeking. It is a science that I have perfected.As a little kid I observed actions that will haunt me for the rest of my life. I observed actions that are stereotypical of gangbangers, criminals, addicts, abusers, and thieves. I observed actions that have long since been locked away in a chest in the deepest, darkest corner of my mind. Sometimes the chest will shift and turn over; the demons within will get out and roam around in my mind, plaguing, terrorizing, and wreaking havoc. The demons of my father; demons that I have to live with for the rest of my life; demons that will always be a part of who I am. I remember several times in my childhood when my father came home drunk or high, sometimes even both. I remember leaving for school in the morning and life was perfect; when I would come home we wouldn't have a TV, a computer, or anything that was worth value because my father took it to support his habits. I remember days when my father came home so drunk that I thought he was going to die, most of the times he should have, but somehow he always managed to recover. I remember my mom trying to stop him from stealing our possessions and he pushed her and finally got what he was after. I remember times when I couldn't sleep at night because all I heard was mom and dad yelling. I didn't know what was happening. I didn't know what to do. I was just a child!The times when my father came home drunk and high are like land marks in the timeline of my life. The times in between are a blur. I don't remember Christmases, or Thanksgivings, or any time when my family was truly happy. I remember very little of my childhood except the times when my father was drunk and high. I have a hard time telling people about my life growing up because I have tried to conceal those memories, tried to forget them, tried to tell myself that is was just a bad dream. I don't want to remember what my father put my family through. I don't want to relive the actions that I have observed. The only thing that I do want to know is why? Why did my father drink and do drugs? Why did he abuse my mom? Why did he steal all of our stuff? Why?Finding out why is something I will never have an answer for. I have always tried to observe him and my mother, waiting for one to slip up, giving me a way in, letting me see the knowledge that I desperately want. I have tried to dig through their hard exteriors searching for answers without end. I observe my older brother, who has dealt with this curse for 6 more years than I have. I have never found the answers that I want! As an adult, I am still observing-everyone, everyplace, everything. I am on an endless search for an answer to my question. I don't think I will ever fully understand why my father did this to my family. I don't think I will stop looking either. My observations have taught me a lot about the world, about people, and about myself. I believe in the power of observations because it protects me from my father's demons, from my demons, and from the demons of the world.