I’ve been re-watching Veronica Mars for the 666th time lately, because well… Supernatural sucks these days and My Little Pony is on break, so I’m finding myself a little without a show to obsess about. Veronica Mars never fails.
I just saw the episode where Wallace finds out that his biological father is still alive, he just hasn’t contacted him until, well, now. I always find those kind of stories a little funny, because truth is, unless you lived it, you can’t possibly imagine what it is like to have a father who never bothered to look for you, even after you turned 18. No matter the amount of hatred between your parents, that might have kept him away, once your kid was legally an adult, there was no valid reason for not seeking it out.
Stories like that always assume that the child has a hole inside them, a part of them missing, or something. A feeling of being rootless, because they never knew where they came from. I guess that could be true. But again, anyone who hasn’t lived it, could not possibly imagine.
Me, I’m not rootless. I don’t have a hole inside me or a desperate need to connect with this absent father, who never bothered to find out if I was alive and well. You see, my parents split up when I was a baby. Long story, but my mom made sure to hide us pretty well, because my father was abusive. Still, he paid child support to the state, and the state then passed it to my mom, keeping our names and location hidden for years.
I know. You could hardly blame the guy for not finding me then, right? But then I turned 13 and started working like crazy, to support Poseidon and all the horsemanship training I needed to save our lives, and the state informed my dad that I was working, so he did not need to pay child support anymore. Instead of doing the honorable thing, and keep paying, he tried to weasel out of supporting his child, forcing me to cut back on the hours I was working, and well, work illegally, to pay my bills. Not even financially, could I count on this guy.
So why is it that in stories like Veronica Mars, the father always have to have some sort of “good guy story” to excuse their actions? Is it so hard to imagine a guy who simply despises the mother so much, that he would rather never see or support his kid, than help the mother out in any way?
And during that battle, where he tried to not pay child support, someone working for the state, messed up and told him my name and address. Imagine the fear I saw in my mothers eyes when she realized that he knew how to find us. Imagine what that does to a child. No, I never had any need to contact this guy, and since I knew, that he knew where I was, and he never contacted me, I assumed that he wanted nothing to do with me.
I guess it’s like Veronica says. “The hero is the one who stays, the villain is the one who splits.” Yeah, I really like this show. And I’m not trying to glorify my mother here. We’ve had our issues as well, don’t get me wrong. But at least, she stayed.
I met my uncle this year. And my sister. Both of whom, I never knew existed. My uncle speaks very kindly of my father, and I have to admit, I did get curious. Tracking my father down was not hard, I had known how to contact him for a long time. Yes, I am curious, if nothing else. I think that mostly I wanted to know if my mother had been wrong about him all these years. You know? I realize that when you only hear one side of a story, you will be missing a lot of information and my uncle did paint a different picture of his guy.
I did have a lot of reservations about contacting him though. First off, I knew that he had not contacted me, even if he could have, for years. I am 34 years old. He had had 16 years since I turned 18, to contact me, and he never did. That ought to tell me something, right?
Still, the more time I spent with my uncle, the more I did feel that I was being unfair to my father, by not reaching out a hand to him. I am not the kind of person to talk about someone behind their back, and snooping in my uncles memories about this guy, felt wrong, so in the end, I wrote to my dad on face book.
Imagine that. Sooo cheesy, I know. Cue music… “Like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives…”
It was a halfhearted attempt on my part and when he did not answer, I honestly forgot about it. Face book make it hard to contact someone you are not friends with, and I was not sending him a friend request. I was honestly not sure if I had forgiven him or not, for nearly killing Poseidon and me, by trying to remove our financial safety net when I was a kid.
He did answer, though, in time.
I have spent my whole life working with problem horses and their humans. The equestrian world is a tough place, where everybody is trying to get ahead, by stepping on each other. I am done with judgmental, know -it-all, people. I survived the equestrian world, and I got out in the end. There is no way I am letting anyone new, like that, into my life, no matter if he is my blood or not.
At first I was intrigued by “meeting” him. Not so much because I felt that I was finally getting answers, like you always see in TV shows, or that he was filling a hole inside me. No, I have to admit, I always wondered what would make a man make the life choices he had, and how his mind would work. Getting a glimpse of that, through a face book chat, was fascinating. I am always studying human behavior. I am a writer after all, and he sure is quite a character.
Writing with him, I never got the feeling that he really wanted to get to know me. He mostly wanted to tell me how wrong I was about everything, how I didn’t know love, or anything else. Those kind of things does not bite on me, and for a while, I let him rant on about how he was a much better person than everyone else, and how he loved everyone equally, which was why he was free, and I wasn’t.
Imagine that. You meet your kid for the first time after 34 years, and that is what you do?
I don’t know, if it had been me, I would have said sorry. And when I was done apologizing for not taking responsibility, I would have wanted to know everything about the kid. How school was, when it lost its first tooth, what the first word was, you know… All the little things, that makes you human. I would have probably turned on the video call on face book as well, for a chance to talk “face to face” rather than through writing.
It must be said, he lives on the other side of the earth by now, so it wasn’t like we were going to just get together in person. Which may have been a contributing factor to me, contacting him in the first place. The distance did make it feel safer.
I never asked him for a video chat, and I very quickly started wondering how I could make him stop writing to me again, because honestly, listening to his, “I’m better than you,” none stop, was driving me crazy, and I am only able to take it for so long. I have cut quite a few people out of my life, for having exactly that attitude, and biological father or not, he would be no exception.
In the end, I started challenging him on the things he said. So, he loves everyone equally? Does that include animals, and if so, how do you explain that you eat them and not your wife or your neighbor? If I am so unenlightened, do please, explain, because I truly don’t get that. Because to me, eating animals are exactly the same as eating your neighbor. I’m vegan, and I do believe that all life is sacred. I surely don’t love everyone equally, as I would always choose an animal over a human who eats them, for instance, but please don’t start with me on this. Don’t tell me that I am unenlightened, when I can easily poke holes in everything you say and you have no arguments to shut me up.
Which led to him deleting our friendship, (he sent me a request, I accepted,) and blocking me from writing to him, after he sent me a meme saying something along the lines of “no one is more hated than he who speaks the truth,” and I instantly answered that I could not agree more.
I mean, a meme? Come on. Even if Supernatural sucks these days, I am still in the fandom, and we have a gif for everything. Google it. We do. Everything. Seriously. Don’t start a meme war with me, I will lose all respect for you, and you will lose.
I was actually relieved when he blocked me. And I understood a lot of things a lot better, about my past as well. Even if there are different stories about if he was physically abusive to my mother and my brother, the fact that he is clearly mentally abusive, is indisputable, as he managed to prove that to me in two seconds, and when I did not let myself be bullied, he bailed.
Take that, script writers of any TV show. I bet none of you could have come up with that, huh?
He has unblocked me again, and he has written me a few messages since, that I have elected not to read. I know, I am being evil here, because people like that, want’s to have the last word, and I am denying him that. But truth is, I don’t owe him anything.
He did send me a picture of my great grand mother, holding me when I was newborn. Now, that actually meant something to me. She was a writer and a poet.
I wish I could have known her.
Dad, if you are reading this, and getting pissed that I am posting this picture, consider this the ONE thing you ever gave me. Be graceful, and let me have this. I was denied great grand parents, grand patents, uncles, and a SISTER because of you and my mom, for 34 years. All I have is this picture of the woman who most likely gave me my writers spirit, if there is such a thing. Let me have this.
And for the record, I am not closing the door here. If you should ever decide to swallow your pride and actually want to get to know me, let me know. You know where to find me. You always knew.