Saturday, June 18, 2011

What is a Father?

This is a REPOST of a blog post I wrote last year.  It's worth sharing again.

A father isn't just someone who fertilizes an egg.  A father is someone who nurtures their child, loves their child unconditionally, teaches and guides their child to grow up to be responsible adults.  A father gives a child a moral compass.

My father was actually my mother when you consider these things.  My mother was there for me from the moment I took my first breath until the moment she look her last breath.  My mother lived her life for me.  I wanted for nothing.  Sometimes I sit and think, how did she do it?  I am sure my grandmother helped a lot.

When I got married, my mother gave me away.  She earned that right.  People think that my father is deceased.  He isn't.  He's alive and he lives close by, however, I really don't seem to have a relationship with him.

When I was young, I would see him during visitations.  Most of the time, he would pick me up, take me to my grandparents then come back a few days later and take me home.  Later, when he remarried, I did stay with them, but the majority of my quality time was spent with my step-mother, who I love like a sister to this day.  I remember her coloring with me and making sure I had my favorite snacks.

When I got older, I stopped idolizing the man, who never seemed to show much interest in me.  See, my mom never said a word, she let me figure things out for myself.  I am sure it must have hurt her to see how much I put this man up on a pedestal and how time and time again, he would either ignore me or just disappear from my life.  I really don't think that he even knows when my birthday is.

He had a son with my first step mother and Nick, my brother, and I stay in touch.  He has three beautiful children that I love more than I can ever say.  When his second child was born in 2006, I wanted to see the baby.  They were all coming to visit my father and I went to his house to see the baby.  He resides with his current partner.  When I walked into their home, it was one of those homes with a large stairway and the wall going up the stairs was lined with photos, lots and lots of photos.  Of kids.  I am certain that there wasn't one photo of me.  I was the kid that didn't exsist again.

Before my mother passed away, I last saw my father in November of 2006, when my cousin, who was like a father to me passed away.  At that time, he promised me that he would stay in touch.  I never heard a thing from him until he showed up at the funeral home when my mother passed away.  I was very surprised to see him there.  I felt comfort and akward at the same time.  Someone overheard him tell my brother that he was really going to make an effort to keep in touch this time.

I am not holding my breath.  I learned years ago that the only person you can count on is yourself.  Let's face it.  You can never miss what you never had.

Happy Father's Day, Mom,  I love you!