A Flair reader's story of growing up without her father,
the unanswered questions and meeting him after 23 years
MY FATHER left when I was a baby so I never knew him, but I always asked my mother about him. Maybe, I nagged too much because after years of wanting to meet him, she finally led me to believe he was dead.
Although that seemed like a logical conclusion, I did not believe it and would, unknown to my mother, pine after this father, this man, many times.
I cannnot explain how I felt growing up without him. At times, I felt so unwanted that I cursed God and asked him why me? At other times, I simply brushed it off as another unfortunate incident.
Regardless of his absence, I was never without a male figure in my family. My mother got married and I had many uncles to turn to and learn from. But they could never replace my longing to associate the word 'daddy' to my real father.
Many times I used his absence to justify my wrongdoings. I declared myself another unwanted misfit and became a teenager with multiple personalities. Sometimes I was the recluse, crying in a corner and begging God to just take my life. Other times, I was an extrovert, making things happen and loving all the attention.
A GO-GETTER
But eventually I grew out of my troublesome teen years and settled on just one personality through adulthood. I became a go-getter, an achiever and an avenger.
I decided I would make something of myself on my own as much as possible because I needed no one if no one needed me. I know it was unfair to place everyone, especially my very loving mother and family in the same bracket, but I could not help it. Somehow, the years of wanting to know why my father left me, the unanswered questions and the feelings of rejection caught up with me. I began to harbour hatred so great for him and vowed never to think of him, try not find him or associate with his name.
I thought I had killed the feelings that could hurt me and could move on. Yeah right!
My life caught up with me at age 23. One day, I went to a Kingston-based office to do business and while signing in at the security desk, I saw a man doing the same thing.
When we were through, the guard saw the names and pointed out to me that we both had the same uncommon surnames. I looked closely at him and he did the same to me. I asked him his name. He told me and my heart skipped a beat. There standing in front of me after 23 years was my father.
I calmed myself, breathed slowly and said, "I am your daughter."
He couldn't believe his eyes or the striking resemblance. I exchanged numbers with him and he called me a day later.
I asked him, 'Why?' and he said he was too young and was not yet ready for family responsibilities. He told me of his wife and other children and how sorry he was that he walked out on me.
I told him I was sorry too and it was nice knowing him. At least now I knew he wasn't dead. We haven't spoken since and I have no problems with that. I got closure. I could now put a face to his name, and peace to my soul.
