I’ve been dealing with the struggles inside my heart and my brain.
After so long being fatherless, months ago, he showed up. Well, we haven’t met in person, but he showed up to my mom. She did call me to meet up with him, but I refused. Not for holding a grudge against him, but I didn’t feel the necessity of meeting him. Not after all this time. And my brain immediately sense something was wrong.
He and Mom divorced looooooooong time ago when I was 2yo. Mom still took me to see him once in a while, even was staying near his house (he was living with his new wife and children). Maybe mom was thinking that it’s better for me to still be near my father. But being so closed to his house didn’t make any intimacy.
I have very little memories of my childhood. Very little. It’s like cuts here and there. But I do remember, till now, the part where I was having a dengue. My mom found me bleeding on the bed in the middle of the night. Found some blood in the bathroom (I puked blood). I bled through my nose, ears, mouth, and I puked blood.
I remember Mom carried me across the street, knocked his front door, asked him to help her took me to hospital. She handed me to him. He carried me and we’re waiting for some kind of transportation to get to me to hospital. Then I puked blood again on his jacket. He looked disgusted. Not worried. Disgusted. He handed me to mom and said he’ll get home and asked my mom to take me to hospital by herself.
Mom panicked. Now that I have my own children, I understand her feeling. She wouldn’t asked for his help if she’s stronger enough to face the possibilities of what would’ve happened to me. I could only imagine of her thinking that she could be dealing with a dead daughter in the next 5 minutes. She would want someone to be by her side when it happened. She chosen my father. Yet, he refused.
Long story short, I was in hospital for weeks and never once he came to visit me. Not as I remember. Thank God, mom didn’t have to deal with funeral. And life goes on. She still took me to see him once in a while. We still met at some family (his side) occasions.
In all those times we met, never once he mentioned about bringing me into his life. We were just having casual conversation, awkwardly. Saying hi and bye in such short amount of time. Never once that we had any father daughter moments. Never.
And now, he wanted to enter my life. Messaging me and never once I replied. From saying dreamy words about father and daughter relationship, his love for me, then blaming mom for separating me and him, saying that it’s not his idea for a divorce, then cursing mom, cursing me, blessing me, cursing my children, cursing my family, blessing my children, and on and on and on.
He kept saying that I misjudged him for being a miserable man begging me to take him. That he’s not asking any favors from me, he just wants to see me and being a part of my family, being a grandfather to my children. But I know better. I don’t judge him. But I know better.
Then… The revelation!
He messaged me that he is homeless now. No longer staying with his (I lost count) wife and children, coz they threw him out. Still I don’t give any response. He started cursing me again. No surprise. Not once he says sorry for what he did to me. Not once he feels sorry for not being there in my life. Not once. He kept blaming others. Blaming me for his miserable life.
What did I do wrong? I wasn’t even in his life, what wrong could I do to him? Financially, he wasn’t helping at all. Yes he was obligated to support me, he was a police officer, so there are rules for it. But it was tiny support. If my mom didn’t work hard, we would barely have food, let alone paying for my school tuitions, and college.
So yeah… I was fatherless. Am still fatherless.
Now he’s screaming to me that he’s my FATHER. That without him, I wouldn’t have even exist in this world. Oh wow! How a man can easily call himself a father over sperms. Pardon my language.
Being a mother myself, teach me what the word MOTHER means. It’s not only about the womb that carries a baby, not only about giving birth, not only about nauseousness of the pregnancy, not only about the boobs to breastfeed your babies. It’s about raising them. It’s all about the love and sacrifices for your children. It’s about putting yourself last. It’s no longer about you, it’s all about the children. Everything else comes last.
Don’t I forgive him? I do. I don’t have any particular hate feelings for him. I don’t think about payback. I pity him for being in this situation. I don’t keep a grudge against him. I just don’t have the feeling. The daughter feelings. The love. I feel numb for him.
When you don’t feel a thing, how can you response?
I know that God ask us to love our enemies.
But how I love him when he’s not an enemy? He’s no one. Well, other than the sperm part. He’s nobody.
But I don’t try to hurt him by not responding. I do pray for him. Not a specific pray, but I pray for the best. I do bless him by not cursing him. You can say I don’t do what I preach. But do so, what pleases you, I won’t judge you.
I don’t blame him for leaving me fatherless. Yes, it shaped my mentality out off course. I did make some stupid decisions and foolish mistakes. But who doesn’t? Even if you have a father or not, children makes mistakes. So, I don’t blame him.
Yes, it shaped my character. But who I am now is not the product of perfection nor brokenness. Who I am is my responsibility. I wouldn’t blame my parents for my misbehave and crimes. I’m a product of my choices. I take all responsibilities over my life. My good and bad. My mistakes and achievements. I am who I choose to be.
Of course as a parent, I have the responsibility to take care of my children. To take them to the right path. To give what’s best for them. But I don’t control their life. Once they become an adult, it’s their life. They’re choices.
The part of my fatherless life, it’s his choice.
Would I wanted it a different way? I don’t know. It’s been done. We’ll see what the future will brings. I don’t control the universe.