my father was a black hole. the moment he passed it was like he sucked all remnants, memories and voice from all those he had touched during his life. no one spoke of him...no one bothered to tell me who my father was or had been.
i have a handful of memories i can fit neatly in my pocket...what i remember is all i know.
every year like clock work, i try to pull information from the lips of family members. no one speaks. in fact they ignore me. do you know how hard it is to go through life knowing nothing of the man who made you? i remember the first year i tried to play detective...i searched the internet for signs of my father's past to no avail...finally ended up getting a small tidbit from my younger brother and step sis. not enough though.
so every year on his birthday and father's day i cry. i soak the pillow and then i'm good for a spell. anger and frustration hit me hard this year though...
i'm trying to figure out why i have the issues i have...self exploration led me following a sadness back to him... so like the dummy i am, i tried, again, to get something out of my family. nada. ignored. IGNORED! cried at work the entire day. i have ghost roots...they come and they go. sometimes i'm whole...sometimes i'm not. i fade with the questions, exist when i remember.
do you know how infuriating it is that my questions float around in the air and never stick? i had to run yesterday. i had to run hard and fast until my heart beat caught up with the heaving in my chest.
the minute i stopped running liliquoi moon by me'shell ndegeocello began and the tears started flowing...a sign from dad?
mama never cared much 'bout dreams
she said it reminded her of my daddy
he Loved to fly
death will come fast
i wanna be free
and closer to the sky
Love grows cold,
lonely and tired
on the wings of angels
i want to fly
daddy’s just the blood in my veins
shadows in my mind
as i'd watch my mama drown in her tears
“i can’t promise you Love
and i can't promise you me"
in my heart of hearts
i yearn to fly
it's gotten to the point where any mention of my father will bring instant tears...i crave stories of him that much. i'm expected to forget. they assume i understood the rules...i never quite caught on though. no one understands my needs to know. there are selfish expectations that i should make peace with uncertainty and move the hell on.
the fact that i consider it all a work in progress means my frustration isn't leaving anytime soon. it grows and shrinks like the tides, existing in an ocean too big to ignore.