The Boil

This weekend, I'm in Philadelphia for training (for work) and for some reason I had an ingenious thought that I'd go look for my father.  I don't think that I've ever mentioned my father in my blog, primarily because I've tried to erase him from my life.  I know that it sounds harsh...so I'll back up a minute...

My parents were married when my mom was 18 years old and my father was 26.  By that time, he had already been married and had children.  I don't know if this is true, but someone told me that his first wife passed away.  I remember this from when I was young and meeting my other brother and sister for the first time (both older).  Nevertheless, I grew up with my grandparents.  I was Mom-Mom and Pop-Pop's girl.  I have the battle scars to prove it.  As my parents were doing their own thing...seperately, they separated when I was 2, I lived as the other daughter that my grandparents never had.  I really don't know where my life would be if it weren't for them.  Actually, I don't want to think about it.  Needless to say, I owe all of who I am to the foundation that they created for me.  It wasn't perfect, but I had a mom and dad who took care of everything that I needed.

My mom was a permanent fixture in my life...of course, I was living with her parents.  For a long time, I didn't respect her the way that I should have - I had terminated her parental rights.  Of course, it had everything to do with being immature.  As a child, when your parents aren't around and you reach a certain level of awareness, you create stories about why your life is the way that it is.  For me...my parents didn't want nor love me since they left me with my grandparents.  I know that it sounds dumb (now that I'm an adult), but it was reality to me for a very long time.  I saw my father on holidays or whenever he chose to come around.  My mom, although she was in and out, always worked on holidays and birthdays.  I didn't realize until well into adulthood that the reason they left me was because indeed they loved me.  At the time I was born, both of them were crazy - for lack of better terms.  They didn't know what to do with me, let alone their own relationship.  Then came my brother.  I don't know why, but he ended up slipping through the cracks - being shufffled around from place to place while my parents did what they wanted to do with their lives.  If I could turn back the hands of time, I would hope that my parents would have made different decisions.  As a matter of fact, I would want them to have made different decisions.  Of course, I realize it impacts whether or not I'd be here today...

There's really no use of going into detail about it...

So I got this hair-brained idea that I'd surprise my father since I was in his city.  Although I've told many people that my father is a stranger to me, deep inside I wish it weren't so.  I made a few calls, first to my mom - she always seems to have his number.  She gave me a number that is disconnected.  She then gave me the number to an aunt and an uncle - both siblings of my father.  One number was disconnected and the other didn't know, but referred me to their older sister, respectively.  Aunt Ruby Lee, she seems to know everything about everyone...she didn't even have his number.  After sharing pleasantries, she mentioned that my father called a couple weeks ago and she forgot to take the number off of the caller ID and it was erased.  I gave her my number and asked her to give it to him the next time he called - which would probably be in another six months.  My father has the Invisible Man role on lockdown.

Ok...so, I got another hair-brained idea.  I'd look him up online.  I did and found him.  Foremost, I didn't realize my father had a middle name - I don't know what it is...just that it begins with an "L".  I also didn't know my father's real age or birthday - does it make a difference after all of these years?  I jotted down the address and took a taxi there.  When I got there (after circling the block 2 times!), the house was vacant.  The front door was ajar, an upstairs light was on, a padlock was on the door, and there were random things in the living room.  I was tempted to go in, but simply pulled the door shut and went back to the taxi at the bottom of the steps.  Although I've tried erasing my father from my life...I was very disappointed that I couldn't surprise him (and probably give him a heart attack - not in a bad way - ok, that sounds bad!).  On the way back to the hotel I just couldn't fathom a person simply disappearing and no one being able to reach them.  I actually felt sad.  It was like a boil that came to the surface of my skin.  Although I have resentment and pain from having an absent father (my mom and I have since rectified our relationship), eventually I'd like to resolve it with him.  As much as I say that I wouldn't have regrets if something happened to him...I lied.  I really would because there has been many times when my father has reached out to me and I've slapped his hand down because I was bitter.  The bitterness isn't gone from my tongue, but at this point, it's tasteless. 

So...now you know.  Those of you who know how much I get on my guy friends about being there for their children, here's why.  I never want your child to tell people that you're a stranger and that they don't care about what happens in your life.  I'm sure if my father knew the story I told, he'd be very hurt.  I'm hurt about the whole situation and I'm finally admitting it.  Perhaps my father may feel my magnetism and somehow appear before I leave on Monday afternoon.  Wouldn't that be something supernatural?!

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