Mending relationships were never an easy task.
They required time, work, and a lot of trust to build.
Steve Rogers knows this all too well when he has a hard time accepting that his Father had hurt his Mother and himself.
Of course it hurt- it hurt more than he wanted to feel, so eventually he tried to stop feeling.
It worked all too well, and soon he was spiraling into a deep depression that threatened to consume his soul.
One day, though, the scrawny kid from Brooklyn who wasn't smart enough to stray from a fight had had enough.
He'd packed his bags and left.
It broke his heart to do what he did, but he did something for himself, after months of just doing things for other people, he did something for him.
Bucky was kind enough to take him in, and he received an unexpected outpouring of gifts.
God was faithful to him indeed.
Of course he felt so guilty for leaving his Mother behind. He didn't think anyone understood the brute courage it had taken him to leave her. But he had to do something. He couldn't sit by and watch from his cozy shell. He had a voice, and he'd be damned if no one heard it.
He'd always assumed the worst. Terror greeted him at the front door, and he felt his chest tighten at the thought of what would be waiting for him when he got home. What followed was not always the same. Some days his Father was happy. This was the man he thought of as his Father- the bright, happy soul who joked around with him and had an infectious way of bringing them together. Even though Momma didn't have much, The meals always came alive because he was alive, and it was enough. It had always been enough.
Then, there was the bad days.
He didn't think about them much, because to him it was like a demon had taken over his Father's body. He knew he wasn't himself when he spat those words out, but it hurt. More than anyone could understand it hurt.
Yet, a part of him dared to hope.
He dared to hope that it wouldn't last forever. He dared to hope that his Father could get better, and his Momma would have more money. He dared to hope that he could have the family he always wanted.
God answered his silent prayer.
He got the letter from his Momma that Daddy had finally understood what he'd done, and that he was going to get help. For a minute, Steve could only stare at the letter. Then, he went to the tiny room Bucky had made for him and stared at the wall in shock, never saying a word. Sometimes he cried, sometimes he didn't. Bucky was talking about what to do next, but he couldn't think straight. What would happen to him now? What would happen to his Father? Not knowing what else to do, and not able to handle any further contact, he went to bed, hoping to wake up with a fresh head.
When he woke up the next morning, he knew what he had to do.
After breakfast, just before noon, he sat at his desk and wrote a letter. It was small, it was simple, but it was the first step on the road to healing.
Dear Daddy,
I forgive you.
Love, Steve
He sent it off that night, fresh hope springing up that he could slowly piece together the relationship with his father he had always wanted.
The wind blew outside, the warm breeze on his face, and he knew God was telling him that he'd done the right thing.