The Man at the Window
~ Lost Soul
As best as I can gather, my life was very different almost from the start. For this is when and where this great controversy began to swirl. I guess there were issues over who was going to raise me, because my mom had aspired to adopt me out.
She lived at a convent while she awaited my birth, The convent it was hoped was a place I would never leave. My Father it is said felt differently about me.
I am certain that my Father knew what I would face merely because of WHAT I was to them, if I was left in that place. I feel even now, he likely saved my life for the first time then. From there - as I've been told - my maternal grandparents also entered this fight for my freedom. It was my grandparents that removed me from the clutches of certain hell.
At times I have wondered and certain it is, this is where our troubles really began. Back then, churches had a lot of clout and rarely backed down or gave in. I surmise this is where my Dad and I became the targets for their wrath. It was a really big sin to have children out of wedlock coupled with the biggest crime of being born an Indian. Through thick and thin, my Dad stood up to them.
The battle to annihilate a culture filled with dignity and grace is congruent with this war to rid the world of our race, and evidence of the churches' willingness to embrace the murders and maimings of innocent children. These children - who had no idea about differences of heritage that might someday save this forsaken race. Even then it was almost unheard of for a child to be raised by only by the male parent, especially if you were a girl and had no mom.
I do know that some of these legal battles my Dad must have won. Because you see I lived with him and he was the only one I loved. I was so very happy when it was me and him. He always worked real hard but he made time for just me and him. He had a way of shining like the sun. I believed he had special powers because he was loved by everyone and everything. When I listened very closely it was just like he said, that if you listen hard enough you can make out the words of the whispers from the trees. I believed the shadows danced happily for him. My heart also reacted in kind, on those days when it was just... me and him.
I loved him so much. I always wanted to obey every single word he might say. For I would be rewarded with a smile on his face, rather than a frown and a raised eye-brow. I loved learning what he was teaching me and I never learned enough. And so it was while we were out one day; we little knew that we were in for a big surprise. Evil lurked just around the bend and changed our lives forever more.
I only know that suddenly I had to do what Dad ordered me to. He barely had told me when he was out of the car. He told me to be quick, crawl to the floor and hide myself under the dash. To stay out of sight and not to come out 'til he himself called out to me. So that's what I did.
I know I was little but I could measure the days from the nights. It seemed to take forever as the day turned into night. At some point I crawled out from that spot, climbed on the seat curled up in a ball and went to sleep. As a new day was breaking I was discovered by a man we both knew. And that's what he did to me what he did.
I just remember thinking 'oh boy Dad, why don't you call out to me by my name?' Finally he did, again and again. I seem to recall that it was then that I lingered once more between two worlds who battled for me. But it was my Dad you see, he kept calling out for me. It's what I heard and saw as he callled out my name... my own private hell has forever remained.
To hear your Dad and see him in great despair - I couldn't move or talk to even tell him I knew he was there! I know that he sat and slept in that chair, by my side, as he cried and cried in despair. And when I awoke afraid in the night, my fears were eased to see and know he was still right there.
During the days he never went far from my side. He'd be there in the chair in that hospital room with his head in his hands trying to deal with his pain. Or I most likely would find my Dad in the day standing at the window and praying there ~ in his despair. To this day I am here because he was there.
That's how it is. I was ill prepared as he shared with me he had to go home.for family and our people. It was far away and the law said that I couldn't go. So then I had to stay. Dad said lots of things to me on that day - I only wanted to tell him one thing. It didn't change the heartache - because with every step he took to that door - my heart broke more and more.
There a came a time when my voice came back to me. But I refused to talk to anybody. Why do you think? Guess I was mad that they took my Dad away from me. I had nothing to say to any of them - I'd talk to my Dad when he came back again.
Then there were threats that made me speak - the new family where I stayed threatened to send me away and my Dad would never find me. I think though it was the promises to me from a lady from those days. She promised me that if in all my days I was truly good and kind, my Dad would be back and he would find me. Then I could tell him myself what I wanted to say.
She also advised me that my Dad would be dismayed if he ever discovered that I wasted the precious moments in my days.To make good use of my mind and my time so he would be proud when he came back this way.
That's how it is I find myself here. Standing up to those people that desecrated and interfered with this Sacred Bond this Father had created with his daughter. With the Grace and Dignity that he so instilled, I look for him still. That's why you can find me sometimes, looking out my window. I am thinking of him. How much I love and miss him still ~ the Creator knows I always will. It doesn't change my hopes though. That someday before I go I hope to see his handsome face, shining with that smile and hope to hear him call my name once more. And the chance to share with him those words I've always hoped he'd hear - "Daddy, please don't go away and leave me here, please, stay." I would want for him to know that he is still very much loved and has been greatly missed all these years.
Nuni Lagi
Lost Soul
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