My life is the perfect example of a cliché.  For as long as I can remember I thought I was someone other than myself and that thought would lead me to certain success.  I was wrong.  Here it is:  born the oldest of 5 children to a single mom who was raised a spoiled only child to both parents.  Her dad did everything for her and gave her everything he could and our dad did nothing for us.  You would think she would insure we at least had the same kind of stability or at least life given a chance.  Oh no, not her; she was and is still selfish till this day.  None of our dad’s were present in our lives. Truth is that I do not think neither of them wanted to be their children or her.  It was all probably too much.

We never really knew our fathers and grew not to care one way or another.  perhaps at times we would individually think of them and what they were doing and if they thought of us at all.  Our separate lives changed constantly and no one could afford to care about anyone who was not there.  There were too many mouths to feed and all of us needed something.  Isn’t that rich “we had no time to think of anyone that was not present in the moment.”   You would think that out of 5 fathers that one of them cared. You would be wrong.

I only have 2 real memories of my father.  One; I visited his mom’s home and he was there.  I remember him standing in the mirror in the bathroom shaving his face and I was looking on.  I recall us speaking very casually and then becoming upset and leaving saying “you never wanted me”.  I was a dramatic child and I think I was acting out as if I cared how he felt about me.  I suppose one day I will hire a therapist to explain the thought.  the other memory was when my sister that is two years younger than I informed me that she discovered he was deceased.  This information was researched by us a year ago at the public library.

There were so many children listen in his eulogy that there was no room for any other name and guess what; my name was not there in print.  After 50 years I still was not  remembered or even mentioned.  No one knows hat I existed or if they knew they did not care.  I cried in my sisters arms and went home thinking that even in death I am nobody to my father.  I will never know the other side of me.    Over the years my mother would say “all I need to do is look in the mirror and I would see my father”.  I say; she is mistaken.  I never saw him.  After several tries; I stopped looking for him in the mirror.   Sure I heard stories about him being handsome and that he and my mom met while in school; he was a high school athlete and she a cheerleader. Don’t quote me.  I think I like the description of them both.  I like to think that they started out being something special. Back then if you were a football player or cheerleader; you were someone to envy and admire.  She becoming pregnant was a crowning moment.  Not.

My dad could have cared less and wanted nothing to do with this beautiful little newborn baby girl.  According to my mom a nurse said that “she would not do this again.”   Gee that has done nothing for me over the years.  I think daddy telling his little girl that she is beautiful is vital.  I never had a father to tell me that I was beautiful.  I just remembered that while typing..  I just realized that I grew up with that later thought.  I have always wanted to be admired and envied in a good way.  I have always wanted to do something notable and helpful.

By now, you may be thinking what and why is she writing this. I am a Parenting Educator and I share tips, information and ideas to assist and support parents.  I personally do not believe parenting is hard; its heart.

Do you believe that children are born learning?


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