Tuesday, November 26, 2019

Daddy Issues

     One of my very first of very few memories, I was around 3 or 4. We lived in what we referred to as the Pink house. My dad didn't live there but he came to visit once in a blue moon. It was a perfect summer evening, we had just come back from a walk to the corner store. My dad bought me and my sister candy. Me, my mom and dad all sat on the couch. I sat on my dad's lap with my bag of candy. My mom sat closely next to him I remember feeling pretty damn happy. My mom leaned over to kiss my dad, she looked just ass happy as me. I watched them kiss, they looked in love. I wanted to have a kiss too, so I leaned in and my dad kissed me one big kiss that lasted more than a second. I opened my eyes and my dad was smiling, I was smiling. Then, a quick hard and fierce slap across my face. As I saw my moms look of disgust on her face I felt the stingy  pain and for the first time I felt shame. I began to cry uncontrollably as my dad very calmly asked my mom "What did you do that for?' My mom said, "She has no business kissing like that."

     Shortly after that i remember going shopping for a TV with my mom and dad, I don't remember the shopping, just on the drive home I overheard my mom or dad mention that we were probably sleeping and that we would have to be carried in. So I pretended to be asleep. My dad had the TV in one arm and me in the other. I vividly recall ever step, feeling safe, content and maybe even loved.
    We moved to a different house, my dad called once in a while. He called my mom and she asked if I wanted to talk to my dad, of coarse I always took the phone. He would tell of how I'm going to see him boxing on TV one day. I would go on and on, always asking when I could see him, always asking, always getting the same answer, someday soon.

   Years went by and the phone calls faded. I was in 3rd grade when I remember  the few times going to visit my dad with my mom. I met my siblings, 2 brothers and a sister. They were younger than me, the youngest in diapers still. Not to long after that my mom had another baby from him. From then on I only saw my dad based on chance. I bumped into him as a teenager and as a young adult. Of the couple times that I bumped into him,twice he asked me who I was when I approached him. I invited him for dinner a few times over the years. I made it a point that my boys new who their Grandpa was. I would text or call him every so often to tell him I love him and see how he was.

He had his own life, did I intrude on it? I tried to give him as much distance as he maybe needed or wanted. Unfortunately for me that meant I had to accept absence. It was extremely difficult for me. Over the years I wasn't sure if I should be angry, hurt, sad or show compassion and empathy. I chose the later.

   My father passed away recently. Only I knew how much I loved him. Although that love was from a distance it was an absolute love reciprocated by a distant absolute love.

   My closure is this, if there is anything to forgive, I forgive. I leave the I'll never know's, right here. I am becoming who I was intended to be through who and what shaped my existence. I can now move forward finally feeling peace. Being sure of myself, that I loved and will love unconditionally even if that means from a distance.

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