Irony. As I focus on producing the second issue of YBE that celebrates fatherhood, I reflect on the lack of a father in my life.
During the past several months, I have actually considered meeting with and actually talking to him about his absence in my life. As a child, I was always told that he wasn’t a father to me because his father wasn’t one to him. I’m sure that the adults around assumed that answer would suffice. But as an adult, it doesn’t. And part of me wants to know the real reason why he wasn’t there or never made an attempt, even if there was truth to his father not being there for him.
The situation has often bothered me as I thought about how little sense that explanation really made. Honestly, if no one ever taught us to tie a shoe, would we walk around with dangling laces our entire lives?
Granted, raising a child requires more effort and responsibility than tying a shoe, but the fact is you would still have to make an effort in the first place. If you’re not willing to make that effort, that says something right there. But at least own up to it, rather than passing off a cheap ass excuse.
Mind you, I’m not angry about it anymore and had actually made peace with his absence years ago. But I’ve never had a conversation with him to understand the truth.