Man, I’m tired!  I want to know better.   Do better.  Eventually be better.   It’s hard when you’re paying for inflicted pain. 

Today, my Father’s Day visit was great.  I heard my son describe his joys and pains, his eyes lowered as he spoke in whispers, his hands becoming fidgety at times.  He looked at me when he was done talking, but his eyes continued to speak.  Unknowingly, his words stung me, as he described things I wished to shelter him from. 

Have you ever had a child ask you a question you really didn’t have the answer to?  You don’t want to lie because you know it would eat you up inside, and eventually they’ll see that you lied to them.  So, you decide to toughen up and tell them you don’t know.  Then you hear them go into their own thoughts, as they help you know the answer, like you are the child. 

Today I felt like I could never be ready for fatherhood.  That’s something you have to do and be physically.  I wanted to swipe away his surroundings, work with him, clean his room with him, have conversations with him and help him with his strength.  I wanted to wipe the tears from his eyes, but thought I had better not – let him search. 

All these wishes and wants.  I’ve got to stop this shit, and find a way to stay on top of it.  That’s my seed and Father’s Day will be over shortly.   He’ll be home sleeping, maybe wondering, and me here – hoping.  I wonder how he felt when he left today.  I gave him a lot for his little mind to process.  He told me he understood, but I know that was his heart talking with his pride.  It’s me that doesn’t understand.  My lil’ homie is a champ, and he’s indifferent to the difference.  He’ll make it better. 

I just hope he never gets tired of reading my letters…

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Tedderick Batiste writes from his cell on Texas’ Death Row. He can be contacted at:
Tedderick Batiste #999568
Polunsky Unit
3872 FM 350 South
Livingston, TX 77351