My mom told me she saw my father in public the other day. They did not exchange words. To me, my father has never existed. The IDEA of a father has never even existed. The fact that my mother actually saw him, reminds me that he is very much a real thing. He is a man who has never, ever been in contact with his daughter. It is hard for me to fathom how someone could forget about something like that. It raises questions like, has he ever wanted to find or contact me? Has he ever tried? Does he even care I exist? Because to be honest, while I do not know this man, nor do I know the extent of how terrible my mothers marriage to him was, I often wonder what it would be like to meet him. Unfortunately, I have no idea how to find people and I know absolutely nothing about him. My mother has kept him a very good secret from me, and I’ve never wanted to question her about him for fear that it would hurt her feelings. It seems that as I get older, the more I understand and the more I wonder. I wonder if he saw her and thought ‘Wow, that’s the woman who gave birth to my CHILD, I wonder how she is?’. Probably not. If he hasn’t tried to find me by this point, maybe he really just doesn’t care. So I guess that’s that. ALSO, he wrote a card to me on my third birthday that my mom waited to give to me when I turned 18 and now I can’t even find it. The one piece of anything I have from that man and I have managed to lose it. Go me. Ugh.
