Dad, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry that your
cinematography career didn't work out. I'm sorry you ended up a
used car dealer.
I'm sorry your family didn't work out as planned.
I'm sorry that my mom is a depressed, lonely woman who is
frustrated by life.
I'm sorry
my sister is a brat, but she isn't old enough to
realize it yet.
I'm sorry my
brother is also a brat and refuses to realize it, and I'm sorry he's in a
wheelchair, too.
I'm sorry that I am not what you wanted out of your oldest child. I'm sorry that I didn't turn out to be the
smart,
educated,
religious man that you had always
dreamed of.
I'm sorry that instead of a son you were proud of, I became an
athiest, and
hate school. Oh, and I'm sorry
I'm stoned right now.
I'm sorry that I'm always gone when you visit, and I'm sorry it's so hard for me to talk to you.
I'm sorry that I'm not embracing
Islam and my
Egyptian roots, and I'm sorry that your daughter and other son don't
respect you.
I'm sorry that your current family is
less than comfortable because of us.
I wish we could have turned out the way you wanted,
I really do, because I'm sorry that
your life didn't turn out the way you thought it would. I'm sorry that at
50, you are a used car dealer, dealing with
trashy welfare-moms,
crackheads, and
gangbangers every day just for a buck to send back to our bloodsucking family.
You always told me when I was younger that I would look back on things and realize that
you were always right when I thought you were a
mean overbearing hardass. You weren't right on everything, but you were
damn close.
I look back on our relationship and curse my
unknowingly selfish self. I'm sorry for him, too.