May 6, 2006
"Little life recap for everyone on me real quick (For those that don't know)...
First, I don't know who my real father is. Not that I really care cuz my mom did a real good job raising me and my brothers.
Second, I had a brother who passed away a long time ago. His name is Armando. He passed away about 15 years ago. (Seems like a really long time but I remember everything about him, like it was yesterday) He was Seven..He lived with leukemia for 3 years. It took it's toll on my entire family. Since his death, Richard, Ruben and I don't ever fight.
Third, I have a total of 5 brothers and 3 sisters. Richard, Ruben. O.G, D.J. Stacia, Martha and Tina. Although Tina and Martha are not my blood sisters, they ARE my sisters.
Fourth, The man that raised me, Richard and Ruben is named Armando Sr. He is Tina, Martha, and Armando Jr.'s biological father. So you can now understand why Tina and Martha are my sister's.
For a lot of years, I never called Mando my Dad. I knew he wasn't my dad and I was a kid and didn't really care that he wasn't my father. As far as I was concerned my Mom was my Dad.
Mando was with my mom for quite some time, and he raised me and brothers, and kept us from harm. He disciplined us well...he was a good Dad. A couple of months before my brother passed, I thought that Mando had earned my heart as my Dad. So I called him Dad. It opened so many things and doors for me, family wise. I guess, as a person it really completed me.
Then, one day he left.
He left my family. He abandoned us. I didn't have a Dad anymore. You know, all of that time he was gone I didn't miss him. I never thought about him once. I didn't even miss him. Execpt Once.
I was in fifth grade. It was father's day. We were going to make a card for our Dad, and then make a clay hand print for him. I never EVER cried in school. That day though I did. I ran out of the class and cried in the hall way. My favorite teacher, Mrs. Yeakel, came out and asked me what was wrong. I told her I didn't want to do the assignment. She asked me how come....I said, "Because I don't have a Dad."
Even thinking about that now, I get teary eyed.
So, about two years ago on Thanksgiving, my brother Richard called me and told me that he talked to my Dad. I was kinda shocked but I let on that I didn't really care. Then he told me that my Dad wanted to talk to me. I didn't want to..No wait...I couldn't. I hung up with my brother and for some reason I started crying. ALOT. I couldn't stop. I don't know why, I just couldn't stop crying. Then I figured out how pissed off I was at my Dad for leaving us. I was REALLY ANGRY. I called my mom and talked to her for an hour about what I felt. I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't think he had the right to call me. Who the hell did he think he was? He had fucken left us. He split without ever calling, or writing. What an asshole. Didn't he know what was happening in our lives? We were a mess. We didn't have so many things because we didn't have him there so protect us from those things. Or those bad people. We were so damaged inside from things that only a Dad can save us from. There was never a man around to be a man. Most of the men around were drunks, and on drugs. Yeah we got an occasional help of hand from an Uncle or such, but from what I saw...Dad would have been better at it.
What really got me too, is that he earned the right to have me call him Dad. It took years for me to call him Dad. But how the hell could he just throw something like that away. What an ass.
My Mom and Dad got married.
It pissed me off. I was thinking the whole time...I swear to God he better not even think of pulling the disappearing act on her again, cuz I will find his ass and beat the shit out of him.
Well.....Richard had a party for his baby. He invited my father. My mother asked me if they could come and stay with Andrew and I for the weekend. I said yea...I figured that I had to face him sooner or later and why not on my turf.
I had all these things to tell him, and how I was gonna yell at him. When I saw my Dad...I cried...I ran up to my Dad, and hugged him so tight. He whispered in my ear, " I am so sorry son. I won't leave again. I love you son. I'm sorry I hurt you. Please forgive me."
Everything that I had wanted to tell him just melted away. I missed my Dad. I Love my Dad. Calling him Dad feels good. I didn't forget what happened, but I figured why am I going to waste my time being mad...I have him right now, he has a second chance (Everyone deserves a second chance) I don't want to waste time holding on to those feelings anymore. Yeah, I have my guard up. But he's in my heart, he's always in my heart...he's been there all along. I can forgive him, yes. I will never forget.
I do want to know why he left us...but I will save that for another time when I have a chance to talk to him for a while. I have to let him know what it did. I have to get it off my chest. He can't get off without hearing how much it hurt...I'm not asking for much, but dammit I need 15 years of yearned closure.
But I love my Dad...I missed him for such a long time. I'm glad he's back."
Welcome back Pop....
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