I didn't have a horrible childhood full of traumatic crazy stuff but it's one of those things that could've been way better with this one thing. If you knew my life like I do it's arguable that things happen for a reason but sometimes you can't help but feel like you know what's best for your [own] life. This thinking will have you in thick sadness. I know not to play with it now. It's better to think more positively or better yet believe and know god helps at times. To be honest, my faith in him coming home was better in my prime youth—7-13 years old—but again we are all human and birthdays and Christmases fourth of Julys pass and you can't help but to wish you can stop time press pause on it all so he doesn't miss anything else. I remember when I was a freshman in high school praying one night and my faith and prayer life were booming then I asked god to bring him home before I graduate so he can see me walk the stage and for a while, I believed that and then I was full of doubt because it's like he's been in there my whole life kinda and it would seem like a miracle and my faith levels went from 100 to 0 in 2 weeks.
I remember my mom picking me up from work one day at 8:00 my feet were pounding and my back was hurting too and my mom said that she had a surprise my mind immediately went to whether my dad was at the house or if I was getting a jeep my heart flustered and I felt happy at that moment I wish I could have squeezed more in but it passed and I was filled with skepticism all I wanted was for it to be true I could almost taste it but we pulled up and I knew he wasn't in the house and I obviously didn't get a new car. As I'm walking up the stairs I was still hoping my dad would be on the other side of my door but its one of those my heart says yes but my brain says no situations and when I open the door and I put my bag down and turn around someone hugs me from behind a woman with a familiar voice my heart can relax and I turn around I see it was Britney my mom's high school friend I hug her and play off my mere disappointment and go on with my evening and didn't think much of it after.
But another part of you will go through this raging madness of what was he doing. Why did he have to go there in the first place and you think its all his own fault and when he calls you pass the phone right to your sister and go start on your homework instead or when he emails you through the cool app they had at the time you leave his paragraphs of sorriness un read you think you're doing the punishing but when you are thinking more clearer you realize he's locked up with nothing but time to think about why he's in their whos fault it is and how he's making everyone feel being in there so I got over that because life's too short and when you finally read his messages you tear up and forgive because god said. Then next day or so you forgive him for real and you take a deep breath and you go on living your little life because time stops for no one.
You talk to him on the phone and hate it when your mom is always right there and asks you dumb questions like do you love your dad or do you want him to come home. You get so mad and annoyed you tear up just enough to feel it but not enough for anyone to see and say “yea of course” or ask the same question back.
The only times I would argue that all things happen for a reason is that they are a couple and couples fight and they get into screaming matches and when my mom gets mad she sees red and or goes black and she forgets you your mother and her uncle. I never heard my dad's side of an argument but I know that he probably gets just as mad. She blocks him and unblocks but I know they will always make up no matter what. I had faith in that more than anything.
There were some close calls and life ain't over yet but my mother and father have been through everything together and I'm no therapist but I feel like their relationship is stuck in highschool sometimes. But that's neither here nor there.
There is lots of pain that comes with this life I was gifted he's not dead or away on business and my parents aren't split up I talk to him once every two-weeks minimum and it's one of those things I'm embarrassed about because one kids are mean and my mom has never told me or my baby sister what he did to get in there or to go back yes you read right to go back and two it's kinda stereotypical and ghetto but at the same time I'm none of those I’m what my cousins call whitewashed and you can tell by my voice and lingo and mannerisms and there's nothing wrong with those things. Some will say oh you can't act a color but I'm just trying to simplify things here and you know exactly what I mean whether it's sad or not where we are as a society but anyways back to me. I grew up in a majority Mexican part of anaheim for preschool through 5th grade and 6th through 12 in lake forest where it was majority white and that's how I became to be but either way, it's embarrassing, and I never really got asked about my dad by anyone anyway but only talking about my mom. I'm sure they had their assumptions and I told a few of my friends I only tell people who ask or I feel the closest to.
[I’m] currently struggling with my faith right now [because] it has been so long since I've seen him in person and gotten a hug and a kiss from my father [and] it’s hard graduating and going through life getting my first car or my license or even my permit he missed it all everything even though I tend not to dwell on these things like how I can't just scream from my room for him to come here or ask him a quick question I don't dwell but it'll hit you like a ton of bricks when you watch a daddy-daughter movie or see someone at the coffee shop a dad with his daughter whether she is 4 or 24 its brings sadness to me to see and at night I ask for mercy because this is the part where it seems like it is your fault you did something so bad or maybe you were going to do something. You rack your brain to sleep and your face starts to rain but you do so quietly because if your mother knew it would tear her up more than you know.
My single mother, she calls herself a single mother and I didn't get it when I was younger since she wasn't single.She never denied my dad but she acknowledged that he's not physically here to do the raising of me and my sister makes her a single mom. My dad had a say in whether we could get a second hole pierced or hang out that weekend and my dad would always say yes. She did that to make him feel included.
The single mother is the backbone of black society. I don't know if it takes a village but it definitely takes a strong-minded woman even with limited resources and little to no help. She gets on the county she takes the bus with an infant in a car seat instead of a whole stroller in case she gets a ride she gets a job she cares for nothing but this little seemingly ungrateful human. Milk ain't cheap and neither are diapers but she is a good saver.Family helps but she is determined to be independent. She has a plan she couch surfs till the tide cools down and it is nice and neat jingle jingle she got keys to her new apartment and the little human asks if she gets her own room it's me I’m a little human. She cries tears of joy and tells me yea not realizing that I too knew we were couch surfing.Next a car. Now she after an education and a better job, my single mother. Although nobody is perfect I'm glad I was gifted her she’ll never know how many times I stop and think like wow mom could've been a bum or we could've and still could be on the streets. I’ll never understand the woman with so much against her the system included trials and tribulations we all go through some are just stronger than others and think of things differently enough to get themselves through it and on top of it. Not many actually overcome their demons and stuff but I know my single mom made it about me for so long that she never finished her healing. My single mom raised me not in a Gilmore girls kind of way but I am an independent black body with a good strong mindset that is always positive. She also made sure I knew Jesus, the king of all kings.
My single mother I know she loves me but I hope she knows I love her too because in my madness there was a cloud over me the ugliest and heaviest cloud you'd ever seen I went through my own little thing too and for a while she was my scapegoat. Why would she stay I asked why she picked him have she no self-worth but then the rain must stop for the light and the storm is over now I can see clearly now that the rain is gone and I'm happy she stays and continues to show me what real commitment is and what love is and what a real wife is you are your husband's second rock and you have to try to be as solid as his first which is god of course.
I choose not to believe that I the product of a single black mom am not as valuable as anybody else in society I know I'm biased and only have one eye open on this one but it's true and it's how I feel. Everyone she meets touches on how strong she is they are amazed wondering what else she’ll pull out her hat “these are your daughters” they exclaim! she laughs and smiles like she hasn't heard it all before “I thought yall was sisters!” “I can't believe your mom!” yeah me neither she says modestly. The older we got the more they almost didn't believe it or at least that's what they said. When it gets to your so strong I don't know how you do it. That's when I catch a glimpse of her reaction she almost can't believe it herself and in her cornea, I see despair that’s wrapped up in a nice box with a red bow that seemed like you'd want to open it if it were tangible but it wasn't. It had the opposite effect on you a box you didn't want to open to save anyone this box was like a setup. It was very adam and eveie with the snake in the garden the box being the forbidden fruit only eve didn't open or dream of opening it. It was scary and it made me sad. My single mom had to be both mom and dad my whole life robbed of being the mom she probably dreamed of and forced me to take on that dad role. She knew she couldn't fall short this wasn't the phone bill that she forgot she would have to sacrifice this month. Single black moms sometimes get the femininity sucked out of them against their will they forget or they never get a chance to be such it all depends but without that balance it's hard. My single mom made sure that I never had to worry about the behind-the-scenes but she also made sure I knew it wasn't easy out here. We all are gifted with life and behind the gift is a purpose big or small it's all about perception whether it's to solve world hunger or heal others or just bring glory to the king of kings it's all for a reason bigger than us.