Fathers' Day

I do remember him. He suffers quietly and is lonely. He keeps it all to himself. He is a man. Men should not complain.
 He educated them, all his children, boys and girls. He supplied them with necessities. He loved his daughters more, not because they were weak, but because he knew they were vulnerable. Now he suffers alone, alone in quietness.
 They do not give him money, "Mama, have it all. Men waste money, they waste it on women and alcohol," they say.
 "Baba is a drunkard. Baba never worked hard," they say.
 "Baba, I do remember you, yes, I do."
 "Baba, its not because u were drunk, its because they never take the blame. Even today, they still dont take the blame."
 "Yesterday, she paid our house rent baba, now the whole neighborhood knows I depend on her."
 "Her mother called, told me to stop bleeding her daughter dry."
 "She left me. she left with my kid. she left with my Brian. all because i sell beer."
 " I cant find sleep baba. my presence, my existence, is irritating."
 "Yesterday, my favorite Argentina played, but it was all messy in my house. My legs on my table, abomination dear friend."
 "why can't you find work? what plans do you have for us."
 "Baba, you never said anything. I won't say a thing. Baba Brian cant complain, because they never take the blame."