I hate hearing a man raised by a single mother badmouth his father like he’s repeating scripture. He’ll spit venom about a man he barely knew, parroting every word his mother fed him without question. The bitterness sounds rehearsed because it is. He was trained to hate the man who wasn’t there, never told why he wasn’t there, never allowed to consider the full story.
What’s worse is that even after life hands him the same script, after his own child gets ripped from his arms by a bitter ex, after he’s alienated, lied about, and erased, he still doesn’t wake up. He still blames his own father, never realizing he’s now living the same nightmare that his father probably endured.
His baby’s mother runs off, poisons his child against him, and paints him as the villain, and he still can’t connect the dots. Still can’t see the generational hit job. Still can’t admit that maybe his father wasn’t the monster he was told about. Maybe his father was just the first casualty.
Doesn’t he see the pattern? Or is it easier to keep blaming the ghost than face the truth?
