The following is my Letter to my inner little Rog.
I have a different attitude toward that name now that I’m older. When I was you, I didn’t mind. From mom, it was a token of affection as in “Booger boo Alan Mann”. I know you loved mom. Her displeasure could always get to you. She didn’t have to get mad or spank. All she had to do was give you that look and you felt crushed and contrite. I love that about you. You were tenderhearted even back then. You wanted to please and when you hadn’t you were ashamed. You are such a sweet loveable kid. A very handsome boy with a wonderful smile.
I owe you an apology. I realize now you couldn’t help what happened to you. You didn’t even know it was bad. I know now how much you loved your dad and wanted him to like you. I think he did Rog. He just had some serious problems with what we now know was sex.
Back then you didn’t know about that stuff. Everyone else seemed to know or at least know more than you. But you were imaginative, inquisitive, and enjoyed discovering new things. You did know a few things about God and Heaven and Jesus. And you knew God loved you bunches and would always listen to you and hear your prayers. Did you know he was always with you? Even in the bad times.
I remember how you felt when after his “visit” he would just leave and not stay and talk to you. You wanted him to lay down beside you and hold you and tell you he loved and cared about you. But he didn’t did he? He just left you in the dark naked and sad. I too am sad for you now that I’m all grown up and have lived an amazing life. But God was there and helped you to sleep and forget some of the feelings.
I loved the way you could play with friends or just by yourself and be content and find the day fulfilling. You were a smart kid too. Not that anyone noticed right away. I know you zoned out a lot in class at school. The teacher thought you were just not getting the lesson but you were escaping the loneliness and sadness by imagining other times and places that you read about. And you read a lot too. You were a good reader and read lots of books. Oh, the imagination you had. I think mom saw it in you and probably appreciated it. She thought the flying saucers and spaceport you created out of cardboard were amazing. I’m sad that after you left for college she threw it all away.
I’m sorry dad didn’t understand you or how his actions had impacted you. I mailed him a tape in my late 20s and described how I was hoping to be healed of my homosexuality issues. It made him very sick for three days and he burned it so no one else could hear it. I think he was sorry for what he did. He did try to apologize to me once.
I suspect he loved you in his own way. They must have known there was something wrong. The underwear, the firebug thing, the sleeping naked, and him catching you with other boys. I don’t think he told anyone about that.
You did have a couple of good friends who were “nice” and didn’t want to do bad stuff. I like the fact that you could really be a good friend to others when they needed one. I’m glad you’re my inner boy. I love you so much. I understand you so much better now. I wish we could really talk and I could sit and hold you and tell you how wonderful you are. If you were here today like Jack, my grandson I would love you like I do Jack. He’s a wonderful boy very loving and sweet. Just like you were back then and probably still are deep inside of me.
Well, I can’t really be there for you for real but I will love you through Jack and I will think of you and what a treasure you are to me. You saved me back then in a thousand different ways. I thank you for that.
I have to stop now my eyes are getting misty and it’s hard to see the page. Just know that I love you bunches and like you a lot.
All my love, Roger