Father’s Day

Father’s Day makes me sad. . I hear a lot of men bemoan the fact that when Mother’s Day comes around there is always a big fuss but Father’s Day seems to go unnoticed. There is a a reason for that – there are apparently more mothers than there are fathers.

I have never had much of a relationship with my dad and I can’t say it matters at this point. There was the time when I needed a dad and my grandfather was the best dad a child could ever ask for. My parents divorced while I was still a baby and my maternal grandparents took me from my mom so she could get a job. I can remember the few occasions when I felt as though my dad and I connected. The first time I was probably about 5 years old, I remember that my two older brothers were with me when my dad came to visit.

He picked me up in his arms and I thought wow! My dad sure is big and tall! I remember putting my arms around his neck and pressing my face into his neck, breathing in the scent of his aftershave.

Dad took us to the hotel where he was staying and parked us in the living room. We were so excited to be out with our dad! He asked us what we wanted to eat and we rattled off our wish list of goodies; chocolates, cookies, ice cream, soda etc. and I think he just bought us everything we said we wanted. He helped me pour my soda and opened my cookies.

Eventually, dad went to his room and left us for a bit, we played and stuffed out faces with the goodies. I imagine we chased each other around the room and made a ruckus as well! Then dad returned with someone who I thought was surely my mom! She played with us and allowed me to sit in her lap and touch her hair. She smelled amazing and I was immensely happy to have both of my parents at last.

Eventually my dad began to gather up our things and told us he was taking us back. I didn’t understand what is he talking about, back where? I was staying here with him and my mom! I started crying and dad got down on one knee so he could look me in the eye and explained that he had to take me back to my grandparents. I asked him why I couldn’t just stay with him and mom. Dad looked at me in genuine astonishment “she is not your mother!” he said. That’s when I started screaming, why was he playing this cruel trick on me? “I want to stay with my mother” I screamed loudly.

My brother Greg tried to comfort me, but I angrily shook him off. “She’s not our mother” he kept saying but I won’t listen, I kept right on screaming “I want my mother” over and over. I screamed “I want my mother” all the way home to my grandparent’s house. My dad was probably pulling his hair out by the time we arrived at the house, he deposited me in the middle of my gran’s living room and quickly left. My gran took me into her lap and consoled me.

My brothers teased me about that incident for years! Each time they did, I wanted to curl up like a millipede and just die of embarrassment. Which child won’t know their own mother? I thought with disgust.

I was 14 when I had the second experience with my dad. I was about to start my final school term in high school and my paternal grandmother decided that my dad should buy my school supplies. I remembered that my granny Lucille told me to be at her house at a particular time to meet with my dad. I obediently went to her house as instructed and sat down to wait. I had no confidence that my dad would show up because he had failed to do so on previous occasions.  To my surprise, my dad showed up that day.

I was happy to spend time with my dad but because I really didn’t know the man, I was quite nervous. I didn’t know what to say and I was afraid I’d say or do something to give him the impression that I was a total idiot. I honestly have no idea why I felt that way! I decided that I won’t say anything unless he asked me a direct question. I guess my dad understood what was going on because I remembered he asked me a lot of questions about my siblings, school; what subject I liked best, how did I do in the previous term etc. and eventually I relaxed.

My dad bought me everything on my shopping list then he took me to lunch at a good restaurant. I was touched that he opted to spend additional time with me when he didn’t have to. I was giddy with excitement and very chatty (as I’m prone to become when I’m excited) and dad appeared to be interested in everything I had to say. I don’t know if he remembers any of this but I can still remember how happy I was and how close to my dad I felt.

Years later I was in my late twenties vacationing in Trinidad. The phone rang and to my surprise it was my stepmom, apparently my dad was involved in a car accident and had woken up in the hospital demanding to see me. I was shocked, I thought surely my dad was at death’s door! I hadn’t seen or spoken to him in about ten years at that point and I had no idea how my stepmom had found me.

Although a little miffed about my ruined my vacation, I was also pleased that dad had summoned me to his side. Apparently although we hadn’t seen or spoken to each other in years, my dad still thought about me!

There are many men in the world today who seem quite comfortable abandoning their children. Why do they do it? do some men not feel even a remote connection to their children? How could they not love the product of their own loins? Don’t they want to play some part in molding their children into the adults they could one day be proud of? Maybe things didn’t work out with the mother of that child, but surely the child still deserves to be loved and cherished by both parents? I have no real answers to any of these questions, I guess only a father who wants no part of his children’s lives can explain.

As another Father’s Day approaches I cannot help but think of all the children who will never know what it feels like to be guided, protected, and loved by a father. How can Father’s Day be celebrated by everyone when some do not have fathers? This is why Father’s Day makes me sad.

If you’re a dad I say kudos to you! Happy Father’s Day!

If you’re a dad who hasn’t been in touch with your child /children, just know that it’s never too late to reach out.

Author’s note: My dad is now in his eighty’s and lives alone in Guyana, I usually call him on Father’s Day. He invariably mistakes me for my eldest sister (who is probably his favorite child since she is his 1st born). I am the youngest product of my dad’s marriage to my mom, he later remarried to the same woman I mistook for my mom when I was 5! they have one child. My younger sister and I look very alike, you would think we share the same mother.