Letter to a Dead Man

I should hate you. I should desire to deficate on your grave. Part of me calls for the hate, part of me calls for the defacement of your memory. Defacement of your memory, what a pleasing thought. I would love to have the power to completely destroy any rememberance of you. In case you don't remember, I was one of your grandchildren that you only used. Used to satisfy a disgusting pleasure. I used to forget it was you. I wanted to forget it was you. There was a time when I was really young when the memory came on, like a small storm. I thought for a moment about what it meant, but I couldn't keep it. The storm, in its nature scared the shit out of me. So I ran, I never looked back. I didn't want that memory. I wanted to believe that I had never met you. That you only existed because my mother, a daughter greater than you ever deserved, said you did. She told me about you, she told me about how were so legalistic and yet didn't care about anyone. She was nicer than I am being, but I knew you messed things up for her, because a father is supposed to love. I guess that was too hard for you. After all the only filling of your lust came from children, you weren't even man enough to love your wife. How pathetic.

I need you to know that currently I am great. I am no longer your victim, you have no power over me. You are dead and that is great. There was a time when I looked at my life and could only see the past as a deeply disturbed idea of life. I couldn't ignore the nature that I used to think was planted in me from you. The inherited evil. The unsatiable lust. I want you to know that I have forgiven you, and that there is no need for me to ever dwell on your actions toward me. I am Caleb Benjamin Gerdes, with or without your memory.

The reason behind my letter to you is that I am okay, but others are not. Your children have been thouroughly contanimated by your depreciated soul. I look at my aunts and uncles and I wonder at the potential that they had, the genius that lies beneath the surface, hidden there from the terror of a father without any true sense of morals. I look at the many cousins I have and I see that they, as well have so much potential, but the curse carries from generation to generation. I also look at what you did to my cousins, the ones I know and love. I cannot stand to realize the fact that you have without a doubt destroyed what God has allowed to have influence over. I cannot believe the amount of shame and guilt you have poured on your family, all in the name of lust. I cannot make peace with you over the fact that some of those I love will never be able to see my beautiful God as he truly is.

I am writing not only for those in my family, but for all those people within the church, and all the people who have had reason to doubt the existance of my beautiful God. You were a pastor, a man of God, and yet you are the ugliest of men. You have, in my mind, no right to ever consider yourself 'annointed' you have officially annointed yourself in the deepest shit this world can imagine. Molesting of children? How can you be annointed you son of a bitch. Look at yourself and see the truth, if you are capable. Know that what you have done is completely and utterly contrary to what my just Lord has commanded.

To all who have been hurt by this man, I am deeply sorry. I am deeply sorry. I want you to know that I will do anything for you. I will cry if you want me to cry. I will beg for your forgiveness in his stead. I will let you beat me if that is what it takes. I want you to stop feeling the pain of this man. I want so deeply for you to feel the freedom from all of this. I want to do whatever I can to help you get free.

Grandpa, I should hate you. I should desire to deficate on your grave. I don't hate you and I won't deface your memory. I forgive you. I truly do. I do not justify any of what you have done. I am free of you. If that makes you happy, good. If it saddens you, great. If you are indifferent, it sucks for you.

Caleb Gerdes