No father on Father’s Day

This is a raw, unedited note on Father’s Day. I’ve never known when it is, Father’s Day. It is that phantom of my life, the day when girls, and boys, craft cards, make something special for that special man in their lives. I dreaded that day, all of my childhood, day after day. I created so many fictions, so many tales explaining, justifying, why the man who made my life possible wasn’t there, how he had never been there. I have a black out of all the Father Days in history, a void that swallowed the pain, sadness and embarrassment of having no Daddy to write cards to in school.
I thought I was over it, the absence, and in some ways I am, but in others I am not, and I am a soon 39-year old woman who wakes up in London, where she lives and has a seemingly successful life, and I ask myself, Who the fuck do I congratulate on this day? Because long gone are the school days, of cards and commands, but then there is Facebook, and the bloated virtual happiness we all live in, and I wonder, who the hell am I going to congratulate on this daddy’s day? I browse, jealous of all those people who had a father I did not. I envy their childhoods, and their growing ups, and I feel empty, lost most of this day, and I come home late, after having hosted an event, one of those events of this school I have built, which is my home, my anchor, and while there I forget all about it, Father’s Day, cause I’m happy, I’m contained. And then I get on a taxi, come home, midnight around the corner, and the loneliness creeps in, and the void feels present again.

What can I do? I have no daddy, have never had, to send cards or Facebook postings to.

I have been lucky, though, to have found a bunch of incredible people in my life who have made me feel worthy, and loved, who have been my family in this journey of continents my life has become.

One can’t have it all.

I wasn’t given what nature is supposed to provide, but I was given more.

Thank you all who fill my life with love. Bit by bit.

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saracaba

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19

06 2016

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  1. 1

    Y aún así, mira que fabulosa persona resultaste ser. Yo diría que el saldo fue positivo.
    Besos, B.

    • saracaba #
      2

      Ah… muchas gracias Brizzia María! Mi constante inspiración familiar!

  2. Kristiana #
    3

    Sara, you are not alone. I don’t know my father also. I am sure we have it otherwise we wouldn’t be in this world but it just happened that we don’t know him. Good or bad? A tricky question. What if we had known him and he would never show any interest in us, in what we do and would never be home anyway; what if he was a drunk or a drug addict; what if he was there and always argue with our moms and make us feel guilty or sad or make us even think that this is our fault they are arguing as that’s the most common thing kids think when parents argue; what if he was aggressive; what if he worked 100% of his time and would never have time for you. Kids communicate in games and when they don’t have anyone to play with, they feel lonely even if they have both mom and dad. Would that make us feel better? Maybe that one day, the Father’s Day, we would feel good as we could send a card and tell how much we love him; show others that Yes I also have a dad to send a card to but that’s only one day from 365 days in a year. I think it is more important of what happens during the 364 days a year and not that one day when we need to declare to the world how much we love our father. I am happy to see happy families with both parents. It is a joy. But remember what we see is a screen and we never see what happens deeper inside. We never know what difficulties are they going through, what do kids feel like about their father.. we all can make happy photos but behind that is hard work, work we are not aware of or no work that we are also not aware of.
    Still I want to argue the goodness of knowing a father versus not knowing. I didn’t know my father but my sister and brother have a father, they have known him since their birth. BUT there is no relationship between them, my brother can’t stand him and my sister loves him even though at age of 9 she decided to spend her next 9 years together with me and doesn’t always want to see him. Why? He has not shown interest in her and many times used her to know what’s happening at home (my mom got divorced a few years ago). How many times she has called him to ask to meet him and all she hears back: ‘I have no time. I can’t now.’ And if she is lucky, he will say ‘Yes’ but then disappear and never show up on the promised day. How many times he promised her to do this or that with her and would never fulfil his promises? How many times he came home drunk and parents would argue? How many time he came home after midnight and she wouldn’t see him for 2 weeks in a row? Many. What would make you feel better – knowing you have a father who doesn’t seem interested in you or not knowing your father at all? I sometimes question myself and think that there is less pain and emotional trauma not knowing him than knowing him and being pushed away all the time as that makes you feel not only lonely, but also not worthy, worthy of man, worthy of life, worthy of love from others. We would have wonderful people around us who give us enormous amounts of love but we wouldn’t be able to see it because we wouldn’t feel good enough to receive it. We want what others have but we should be careful of wanting what others have as we have no idea what stands behind it. We will never know how that happy family lives their day-to-day lives unless we live it with them.

    I found out contact details of my father and wrote him an e-mail but no response. Conclusion: there are people who want to know you and want to give all their love to you and there will always be people who don’t, who prefer not to know you just because it is easier or less painful. We don’t know what happens in the other persons head therefore I don’t judge. At the end, we chose our parents not the other way round. We chose them as that’s what we wanted to learn in this life time. If we had known our dad, we wouldn’t be who we are now. We are who we are now because of the experiences we’ve had and all experiences are good. We get what we wanted to get when we decided to come into this world. 🙂

    Lots of love to you and everyone else reading this comment <3

    • saracaba #
      4

      Kristiana, thank you so much for reading, sharing and opening up. It is one of the most comforting things in life to know you’re not alone, not crazy, and your posting just made my day. I did know my dad, sort of. He married my mom, had my brother, then me and a year after I was born they got divorced. He was (is?) a serious alcoholic and violent man. Erratic in his visits until he one day stopped coming. One day my mom brother and I saw him walking in the city center and the coward crossed to the other sidewalk when he saw us, and pretended to not have seen us. Some efforts in vain came later in life to establish a connection (like your email), but he was faulty and it was too late. By then I knew he was trash, and I didn’t want him in my life. What I wanted, what creeps up like a void in these as the ones I described here, is the love A FATHER, not neccesarily that one who was given to me. Yet I am his, I have his history and DNA and yet I am quite content with who I ended up being, so I guess all in all life has been good. Having the option to write about this and share with people like you is so much better than having grown up with a man like your dad, or mine, or your sisters’. So cheers for us, happy and strong!

  3. Kristiana #
    5

    You are awesome Sara! 🙂



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