And its Father’s day today, so happy Father’s day to all Fathers and to all of my friends who have fathers and are posting about them today, am happy for you…
I know nothing about fatherhood, all that I know is mine was absent. I wrote about my experience in Little Legacies.
I don’t have a clear picture of our relationship, I was three when he died, so those who were old enough then, tell me how he was like.
—The thing about being told is, you get the story from their perspective…
And so I have little or no judgement of how he was/could have been. Some say he was a good person, he took me to work with him, he loved me. Some say, he was a bad boy.
Here is the thing, there was a time when my mom was sick, sick to the extent we almost gave up, and were waiting for her to die.. The thing with having that kind of experience is that it hurts you, and you just don’t know how to deal with that. But it hurts you more when you meet people who used to know that your mom was sick, and they feel sorry for you before even greeting you.
Like,’oh God, here is Eunice, her mom was so sick, oh God, Eunice, how is she?’.
I don’t want pity, I want understanding.
Understanding is respectful.
You don’t need to make it all about you, and be all noisy on the road, so that people can see that you care and feel bad for what happened on my expense.
It’s embarrassing, to me.
And my mom is well, nice act!
Its been seven years now, she is well. If you cared like you just showed the world that you do, you would have known that.. SEVEN YEARS AGO.
(Okay, that was for one woman who I met last year??).
So back to my father’s life, I wish I had met his friends as well, you know. Show pity and all (i could tolerate that in this case) but at least I would have been collecting memories and stories of him.
Since his death, I was “protected” by being kept away from all things related to him. I am old enough to know that a solution today, is a problem tomorrow. It was a solution then, I know for sure… But now, I am struggling because of it.
Dear dad, I wish I knew you more.. Your laughter, your voice, your hobby, your insights and all things you. I know I love reading books and you left a shelf full of books, we share some stuffs…
Every now and then, mom says, “your dad used to do that”… I wish I knew more about the other half of me, as I know my mom (the other half as well).
I have your picture, I travel with it everywhere.. I am doing my best to keep your memories close, imagine if I had more memories.
(The left one)
Some days i hate you, and hate that you chose drinking over me. I know it’s addiction, but still some times I hope you tried hard for me maybe.. Some days I miss you, most days I don’t remember about you at all, and in fact I haven’t even memorized your death date (I know I should, but I haven’t).
I have reached a point where I have accepted that in my life, I will not have a father, cause you died early.
I have had to deal with the pain… The confusion, and the issues… But I am doing fine, again, mom says I got that from you… I am a fighter like you.
Its Father’s day today, the day when the world reminds me you are absent.
Me and all the other people who hate their dads, who grew up with absent dads, who struggle with dad issues and all the other reasons people hate/don’t have dads in their lives… Today is the day when it hits us…
21 years later, and I am doing fine.
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