It's Time to Move On....Father's Day Edition

I was born to two teenagers, who had no business being together. My mother was 17, and my father was 19 certainly too young to be parents. Fortunately, I had a much older grandmother who stepped up and assisted my mother, and for that, I am forever grateful.

My first memory of my father was getting curious about him at around age 8, and looking in my mother's high school yearbook for his picture. I searched for hours through pictures until I found his.

A year later, at the age of 9, I met him for the first time. It was awkward. He chatted with me for about an hour, maybe less, and gifted me a dollar before he departed.

I would not see him again for nine years. I was a freshman at N.C. A&T State University. My mother acquired his number from one of his cousins, with whom she worked, and I kept it for several days before I did anything with it. Questions flooded my mind. What would I say to this complete stranger? Could we have a father/son relationship after 18 years and one very awkward visit?

I made the call. He came by my dorm room. I got to meet his other children (4 of them, all girls, one of which wasn't his, but he took care of anyway, because she was so young when he was dating her mother), but I let it slide, because now was not the time to bring up old hurts or make him uncomfortable (I was a gracious, naive 18 year old). We teetered in and out of each other's lives, and I maybe saw him less than 10 ten times over the next few years. Each visit was just awkward. How do you talk to a complete stranger who shares your DNA?

Fast forward four years, I graduate from college. I saw him the week after, which would be our last meeting. I have not seen him since. The year was 1998.

I blamed him for my sexual abuse at age seven, my not being athletic, my not knowing how to change a tire, fix anything, or being able to do any of the "manly" things that society tells us that men should know how to do.
In my 20's, I used that blame, anger, hurt, pain, to catapult me into snap life decisions, bad sex, and toxic relationships. As long as I had him to blame, I could wallow in my misery.

One day a light bulb came on, and I think it was after my late Grandmother died. I thought about how empty I felt without her. How much she had shaped my life. All the good that had come from the 24 years that I had with her. I was reared in a Christian home. I had hot food every day. a roof over my head, and two women who loved me for than life itself.

Then I thought about my father. That young 19 year old boy, not really a man, who was reared by his maternal grandmother because his own parents were teenagers, whose father had abandoned him, who couldn't find it within himself to break the cycle, who spent most of his life abusing women, and alcohol (which probably was not his only drug). After a life of so much pain, dysfunction, abandonment, and heartache...what could he really offer me? How would his influence and/or presence have made my life better? What would I have done, if I were in the same situation at 19?

I am not condoning his behavior. Not making excuses for it. But sometimes the best gift anyone can give you, is when that individual leaves you alone. Sometimes abandonment is necessary to give you the life that you really need and/or deserve.

I know many of you may disagree, but this gives me peace. This allowed me to forgive. This allowed me to move on....holding on to the hurt does nothing to the offending party, and everything to the recipient. I used recipient, because I refuse to be anyone's victim.

So for the baby mamas, ex-wives,  fatherless children, and anyone with negative connotations of fatherhood, it's time to let go. It's time to heal. You are not hurting them; chances are, if they could walk away for whatever reason, your feelings are not paramount in their thoughts, so you are the only one suffering.

Letting go was the best thing that I ever did for myself, and I wish only the best for each of you!


Until next time.....

Sgt. Bergdahl and Why I Don't Care About Your Politics

Many of us across the country were relieved when news of Sgt. Bergdahl  safe return was released. There was nothing more moving than watching his elated parents in the Rose Garden with Pres. Obama celebrating his release. True to form, his release is not without controversy. The military wants to court martial him, amid claims that he is a deserter, Conservatives (you know those batshit crazy folks who call themselves the only true Americans) see this as another attempt to bash Obama since he bypassed Congress to negotiate Bergdahl's release. Liberals (who are about as wishy washy as the day is long) are even coming for Obama because they are saying his release makes Obama look bad....seriously? Since when did having a soldier safely return home make anyone look bad?

Let this go people! We don't know all of the facts. We know only what mainstream media has told us, and they aren't very reliable.

 A mother who didn't know her son's whereabouts for five years. She did not know if he was hungry, sick, in danger, and I am sure other horrible things came to mind.  My Grandmother used to tell me, when children are little, they are knee trouble, meaning they physically need you for everything, but when they grow up and become adults, they become heart trouble, meaning as long as there is breath in their bodies, and you are a parent, their well being will always be your priority.

This is clearly a human rights issue. A family is reunited, but probably not for long, if my fellow Americans have their way about it.

I will not draw conclusions or make presumptions, but what I will do is celebrate with a family over the return of their son. I suggest you do the same, that is if you can step down from your self-righteous pedestals for a moment.

Until next time......