I do not know if this will be of any help, but my hope is that by posting my story that it may bring a light of hope to someone else.

When I was very little, my father was a wonderful person. He would strap me onto the back of his motorcycle in a carseat to go for rides when I wasn't big enough to hold on, and I loved it. He used to be so much fun. He was only 18 years old when he married my mother.

When he was in his early 20's, he found out that he was adopted. He had been raised his entire life to believe he was Italian because his adoptive father, my grandfather, was full- blood Italian, immigrated from Italy. Not only was he adopted, but the kids he grew up believing were his first cousins were actually his brothers and sisters. The sister of his adoptive mother was his birth mother, she'd had a few children and then abandoned them, so her sisters went and got the children and raised them. His birth mother would not reveal who his birth father was, only that he was "an Indian".

This threw my father into rage. He became full of anger and resentment. He began drinking all the time, staying out all night, and took out his anger on my mother and me. At the time I did not understand what was happening. All I knew was that my Daddy wasn't fun any more. The person I once thought was the most fun person in the world became the person I feared the most. I would get sick to my stomach when it got close to time for him to come home from work, as he would usually start yelling at my mother and me, hit one or both of us, before leaving to go out drinking.

He eventually left my mother for another woman when my sister was 7 months old. After that, when my sister was about 2 years old, he started taking us for visitation. He didn't yell as much with his new wife there, but I was still afraid of him and was always "on alert" when we were there, especially because my sister was my special gift from Creator. I had prayed every night while my mother was pregnant that He would give me a baby sister, and now that I had my special baby sister, I was terrified my father would hit her or hurt her like he had done to me.

One night while we were there for visitation, during dinner, he began yelling at my baby sister, and whipped her until she vomited.

I didn't try to fight him that night as I was only 8 yrs. old and knew he would win, but inside I HAD ENOUGH!!!

The next day when my mother picked us up, I told her what had happened. She was ready to fight back too. She took me to see the lawyer. To make a long story short, I testified in court against my father when I was 8 years old. Although some part of me still loved him, I could not allow him to hurt us anymore.

It wasn't long after that he stopped taking us for visitation. I haven't seen my father since I was 12 yrs. old.

After the birth of my daughter, I sent a letter to him. I told him that I had long ago forgiven him and that I wanted to let bygones be bygones, and allow him to be part of my and my daughter's life. I told him that I know time changes people, and that I missed the Daddy I once knew.

He never responded to my letter, and to this day I still have not heard from him.

To this day, I still pray that someday he will find peace in his soul. For a long time I felt bad for testifying against him even though I knew I had to do something to protect the ones I loved the most. But, now I have a peace in my heart as far as all of that is concerned. I have not only forgiven him, but I have forgiven myself. I tried to give him the chance to be part of my life and my daughter's life... that's all I can do. I pray that someday he will find balance again and be able to go to Creator with straight eyes.

As for me, I know I did the best I could do, and that's all anyone can do.

Blessings,

Burning Fire