MAN OF THE HOUSE
BY JACOB W. HARPER
There are many moments which define us, moments which make us who we want to be. There are also the moments that without our intention are the crucibles our personalities are poured into, placed among the flames, and then purified through sacrifice. Purification requires loss.
I lost the man I called Dad on January 2nd 1993. My mom (who happens to be created of something Gibraltar could only envy) said that she wanted to kill my dad's boss. While Dad's body was being loaded into the ambulance, his boss told me that now I needed to be “man of the house.” She never forgave him for those words, however innocent, because of what they took from me. I was from that day forth no longer a 7-year-old boy I became someone who was compelled to pick up the load fixed the problems and hold myself accountable for life's hardships. I had no idea how to do any of this and the man who was supposed to teach me could never do so. I forged the path on my own my mother cursing that man every step. | JWH