I Don't Want Sympathy, I Want To Inspire...Here's My Story

Hey Steemians,
In light of some information I've received recently, I've decided to share my story, which is something I haven't done with anyone, besides to those who are closest to me. Now, before I start, I'm not telling you these things because I'm looking for sympathy. I'm hoping to inspire, and maybe...just maybe I can help someone who may be struggling with their own personal hell. I've been through a lot, but I have done well for myself with the help of the people who love me. It's a bit long, but please stick with me, maybe some of my Steemian friends will have some words of wisdom at the end of this. Let's get started. I'm so nervous
I was 11 years old when my mother was diagnosed with terminal brain and lung cancer. The doctor's told us that she only had about 6 months to live. She surpassed that, she lived for about 2 years. About 2 months before my mother passed, her health deteriorated rather quickly, I was 13. I remember having to suction her mouth because she was having trouble swallowing and she would cough up pieces of her lung. She was 33 years old.
I had a decision to make. You see, my father had been molesting and raping me for as long as I can remember. It was expressed to me that if I ever told, it would tear my family apart, and I wouldn't have a home. I have an older brother (only by 11 months), who wasn't like me. He endured abuse from my father, but of a different sort. His was more mental, and every now and then it got physical. I remember my father holding him up against the wall by his throat. He was my mother's favorite though, or at least that's how I felt back then. But I love my brother dearly, and only wanted what was best for him. I knew what would happen as soon as I told. I knew I could survive whatever may come, but I wasn't so sure about him. It led me to thinking of how bad things would get when my mother was no longer here. I begged my father to stop, time after time, and it would, at least for a little while, and then something in his head would snap, and he was back to doing what he did.
I told my mother once. One night, my father was in my room, and my mother got up. The way the street light shined through my window, there was one dark corner in my room where he stood when she glanced in. When my mother went into the kitchen, he slipped out of my room. They got in a fight, I heard a glass break, and then my mother walks in my room. She asked me what had happened, I told her, she said that we would talk more about it tomorrow...tomorrow never came. I was 10 at this time.
I decided to tell, I told the mother of the guy I was dating at the time. She made an anonymous call to Child Protection Sevices. They came and got me the next day.
My father was incarcerated the same night.
My mother, my brother, and I moved into my mother's parent's house, and I slept on the floor with my mother in the hospital bed in the same room. One night, the alarms on the machines started beeping. I got up and grabbed her hand, she took her last breath. My grandmother told me, "that's your mom's way of saying she forgives you." I never really understood what she meant by that.
About a year and a half later, we went to trial. He was found guilty. He was sentenced to life without the possibility of pardon, parole, or shortened sentence.
My father and I have corresponded a few times, the last time was in 1997, when my son was born. I was 20 years old. In his letters, he seemed to blame me for losing the last 44 days of his wife's life, that's how I know it was 44 days. He hasn't shown any type of remorse, he's played the victim saying things like "Haven't I suffered enough". Um, no, you haven't.
I had a rough go of things in the beginning, I realized quickly that I didn't have friends. I went off to college, started going down a bad road. Started drinking, and was in New Orleans drinking and partying more than I was in school. I did manage to go to class, and aced them, I was always a good student no matter what was going on, I don't know how I did it honestly. My boyfriend at the time, now husband @firecajun9262, came as my knight in shining armor. I quit college, came home. We got married, had our son, and have had a great life. Don't get me wrong, we have struggled, and we fight, just like everyone else, and we have the worst luck, nothing EVER goes as planned. However, we have gotten through it all, and we've done it together. We have had these awesome moments that I will get to here on Steemit. Life is good, and I wouldn't change a thing. Every struggle I've had has led me to where I am today, and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
I'm 40 years old now, and I received a phone call the day before Thanksgiving. My father has applied for clemency and I received the letter today that his hearing is set for May 14th. I can speak at this hearing. I sat down to try to write down what I want to say, because I can't go in there unprepared with this scattered brain of mine. But I could not find the words. I'm struggling with this, and I have so much to say.
Now that I'm older and have the chance to tell my father exactly what I've wanted to say all of these years.... now I'm drawing a blank. It makes me ask myself WTF?!?!?

There's much more to my story, a lot I left out for the sake of time. And be lucky steemians, you now know a part of me that very few know about. I consider myself a rough around the edges, Southern Bee, with a foul mouth (I'll try to be a lady on Steemit) lol
Don't feel bad for me, I'm fine. I will accept any words of wisdom, any advice on writing down what I want to say without dropping the F-bomb too much, because that's really what I want to do.

Thanks for stopping by y'all!!

Oh one more thing, @dreemsteem, I apologize for not making it to your contest today. That huge slap of reality left me dumbfounded, but I am really looking forward to the next one!!

Toodles!!!