HAPPY 'FATHER'S' DAY?

PERSONAL JOURNAL OF DETECTIVE SERGEANT JOHN MOLONI

ENTRY #1

It took me awhile to realize it, but thanks to my very talented sister, I now understand – my father is the representation of everything I detest.

You see, I’m a cop. But not just any cop – I work the NYPD Manhatten Special Victims Unit. Yes, that very same organization portrayed ( with varying degrees of accuracy ) on the TV show. Why? As one of the characters on that TV show said, someone has to.

I wish I could look my father in the eye, and ask him, what did Geri ( my stepsister ) ever do to him? Or, was she just a fucking convenient punching bag?! Or, does he just dislike ( or maybe even hate ) women??!! You see, while he swooped in like a ravenous animal on Geri, he also smacked my mother and stepmother around, yanked phones out of walls, smashed my mother’s and stepmother’s belongings…just your average sonofabitch. And, yeah, he drank, but he beat Geri when he was perfectly sober, so, to me, his drinking matters not. I’ve slammed assholes like him against the wall in the interrogation room – I’m not overly proud of that, but neither am I ashamed. And, it’s gotten me into trouble once or twice.

I hate people who hurt children. I abhor violence against women and girls. My father did both. And, now, I’m starting to get a grip on why I am so angry, why I’ve got to constantly monitor my emotions, and why I needed Proczac for a time. The Proczac saved my job; understanding why I needed it will help me save my soul.

What makes it worse is that he never touched me, or my stepbrother, Gary. Just Geri. Guilt city. And I can’t help but shake at the thought of my full-blood sister, Shirley, having gone through her adolescence with our ‘father of the year’ dad around. Dear Lord. ( And Praise the Lord my father wasn’t around then….! )

Of course, I’ve come to realize via NYPD-mandated psychotherapy that I can’t hate my father, sonofabitch that he was. I found out some years ago the kind of life he endured growing up, so how he turned out is no major surprise. But, I had something he did not – a super-duper fantastic women called ‘Mom’, and a grandfather ( my Mom’s father ) who showed what a ‘real man’ was. A lot of people have told me that I act, behave, etc. a lot like him, my ‘Papa’. Unfortunately, I saw enough of my father that I grew up scared that I’d be like him ( my father ), so, I’ve never married or had children of my own. Yet, I’ve been ‘in love’. But that’s for another journal entry. Gee, thanks dad….

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