A bond which is incomparable, yet so necessary.
A lifeline which can alter a whole being. A dad and his daughter. December 2014 I began on a journey to fix what not having a present dad had done to me, that among other things. The influence of the lack of fatherly presence on my life is something I chose to “overcome”. It’s something I felt had never really affected me.
I’d never known any different, I’d always had pretty stable male figures in my life and family so what’s a missing dad, right?!?
If only it was that simple pregnancy taught me my “overcoming” wasn’t really over; My fears weren’t gone they were suppressed!
It didn’t matter to me the semantics of a two decade odd breakdown that I became a product of. What mattered was the outcome.
What mattered was that I was 22 pregnant and couldn’t imagine a future where we celebrated fathers day, all woke up under one roof, had family dinners and communicated as parents without the assistance of third parties. Reason being I had never experienced any of those things not even once. I was faced with a realisation, that I was the product of a broken home and as a result my belief in the family unit was also broken.
This wasn’t a question of good or bad people nor was it a question of good or bad decisions, it was a question of consequence.
Was the naivety that happy ever after existed a contributing factor to why happy ever after never came? Would it be my fear or his certainty that prevailed. Although it was only a few roads between our childhood homes they didn’t just separate us physically. They taught him family is everything and any sacrifice for the wellbeing of the collective is imperative. They taught him dads come home after work and tell you to listen to your mum. They taught me I have the most phenomenal godfathers in the world and my grandad is a bad ass even though he gave me my first drink of Caribbean rum at 14.