A lot of people ask and wonder about my biological father, where he is, why isn’t he in my life. First things first, growing up.
Wow, I keep deleting what I write because I have no idea where to begin and how to put my thoughts into words. I grew up with my older brother, sister, father, and mother up to the age of 5 or 6 of what I can remember. We grew up in Scranton, PA. He always knew how to put a smile on my face while singing old songs to me in the car like Red Hot Chili Peppers and just rock music while driving around town in the car running errands. I would love to hear his voice because he actually was a great singer and use to be in a band with Chevy Chase and had blonde hair down to his butt !!!!! For some reason my siblings and my mother always had a sour attitude towards my father and I had no idea why, later on I found out there was a huge reason behind that. I’ll save that for my book.
I was always daddy’s little girl. Always wanted to be around him and just watch him play the keyboard and show me how to put songs together on his computer at my grandmother’s house. This lead to him buying me my first digital camera and guiding me to my ultimate career goal which was film editing. I took videos all the time of my brother and I riding bikes or simply “acting” like we were arguing to get my mother’s reaction in the background, which was all a joke to us. We always had fun with my camera.
My mother and father never got along and I don’t remember, but there was always arguing and physical altercations in my household growing up, so they both decided to get a divorce and he moved out. I remember that broke my heart pretty bad, even being so young. I went from seeing him everyday and listening to his soothing singing to nothing but silence at night and my mom yelling at my brother and sister for some reason or another.
We use to have visitation with my father after the divorce, along with my brother and sister tagging along. These visitations lasted for a few years… until my mother met my step-father Mike. My mother meeting my step-father to me, I’m guessing, made my father feel like he shouldn’t even be involved anymore. Another man stepped into his children’s lives and he just gave-up. The last time i saw my father I was expecting him to come pick all three of us up from the house. My step-father was standing on the porch with us waiting, I honestly feel like my mother did this on purpose. A few minutes later I saw my own father drive past the house upon seeing my step-dad standing on the porch and he didn’t stop to pick us up for our visit. I was torn into pieces.
A couple years later we relocated from Pennsylvania to North Carolina. My father weirdly called my mother one day and asked to speak to my brother and my brother and sister and both of them didn’t want to. He then asked to speak to me. My mother immediately said “She doesn’t want to speak to you.”, then piped in and said “Uhm, yes I do.” I asked my father where he’s been and he said, “Home. How are you?” and I said “Good, when are you coming to visit me?” and my mom grabbed the phone and said “We can set something up, but you need to come here.” Ever since that talk I have not seen or spoken to my father.
To this day I have no idea whether it was the best choice for me to cut ties with him like my mother tried to make me do, or if my father just didn’t want anything to do with us, or me, anymore. This thought is always on my mind, but until I get to speak to him it will never be answered. Maybe one day we will reconnect once again. Love you daddy.
I don’t what happened in the past, everyone has a past but everyone can change. I know he loved his kids and if he didn’t he wouldn’t have tried to be in our lives in the first place. Some questions sometimes are best unanswered.