Father Of Mine

Fifteen years ago my parents got a divorce.

Four years ago this coming Christmas I contacted my father for the first time in almost ten years.

Last year this past May, my father remarried.


My father lives in New Brunswick. He has lived there since I was ten years old. I'll be twenty-three this year. I've seen him once since he moved out there. I went to his wedding last year.

I now have two step-brothers and two-step sisters. One step-brother and one step-sister live with my father and his new wife. They're a nice little family. I was shocked to see it though. When I went there, the little girl was the same age I was when my parents divorced. The little boy reminds me so much of my younger brother when he was young and innocent.

For years after he left, I hated my father. Ask any child of divorced parents when one leaves and they will tell you that they probably hate that parent. It took me a long time to not hate my father. I grew up in a hard home with a difficult life. A lot of people out there know what I mean, whether they had parents or not.

Four years ago this October I stopped speaking to my mother.

It will be a year this October when I stopped speaking to my brother.

It feels like I don't have a family. Do you know what I mean? It's true that I have wonderful grandparents who have been there for me and wonderful aunts that have done what they can for me. But still, I dread family occassions.

I have a big mouth. This mouth tends to get me into trouble. Along with this mouth I have this personality that demands me to speak my mind and be honest, even if it takes me a while to get there. This causes problems. At family get togethers, I usually end up crying.

I'm doubting that this father's day will be any different. There will be lectures. I will most likely be the only grandchild there. I will be told to hurry up and get a job; hurry up and be done with school; hurry up and stop asking for help with money. It's not that I ask for ACTUAL money. My grandparents are co-signers for a credit line. Recently I applied for an extension. Needless to say, it didn't go over well.

I don't get support from my parents. Either of them. I called my father for father's day not that long ago since I won't get a chance to tomorrow. He wasn't home. In my mind's eye I could picture him out with his new family and I feel like I should back away. That I should step out of that family because I don't belong there. When I go to that house it's like going back in time. Back to when I lived in a house with a mother, a father and a younger brother.

I don't want to be a burden any more. I don't want to feel like I'm just getting in the way. I feel like the piece to a different puzzle sometimes. Not all the time. I do have happy family memories.

Isolation is not foreign to me. I isolate myself all the time. I'm finishing up University and I'll be attending College this fall. I have a handful of friends to show for it. High school I had none.

Tomorrow is Father's Day. I will go to my grandparents house. I will sit in church. I will return to my grandparents house and sit somewhere in that house. I will be lectured. A bit. I will eat. I will spend the night. Monday I will go with my grandparents to the bank to get the extension on my credit line. I will get lectured. I will come home to my empty basement apartment. I will look frantically for employment.

This will be my life for the next few days. There are no parents involved. There are no words of encouragement involved. There is no sympathy or empathy. There is no kind voice of congradulations.

This is my life.