I like to think of myself as being an immaculate conception, since I have no father. There once was one, in my life, but he wasn’t a good one. He’s still my brother’s dad, since he was, and clearly still is, the favourite. It’s a hard thing, knowing that the person who should love and care for you unconditionally, doesn’t want you.
I grew up with a single mom, and a brother. Every other weekend was spent with his dad, along with every other Easter and Christmas, and two weeks in the summer. We had fun out there, with him, but mostly it was uncomfortable, and a bit on edge. He was a mean man. I know he’s where I get my temper from, and mine is nowhere near what his is. He never hit or hurt us, but oh did he yell!
When I announced at the age of 18 that I was getting married, he decided that he wanted nothing else to do with me. He didn’t want to meet my now husband, and grudgingly agreed to come to the wedding, after I called and asked him to reply to the invitation. He no showed to the reception, and that was it. That was the last I saw of my brother’s dad. Until my brother got married.
He fawned over my now sister-in-law. Went happily to the wedding and reception, and even hosted them in his home, and still sees them frequently. Over the years when my grandmother would come to visit, I would offer to have him come as well but there was always some story about a friend or other he had to go see.
It’s been 17 years since my wedding, and I’m sometimes still sad about the way he made things go. Thanks to him I have abandonment issues, that I don’t think I’ll ever get rid of. I’d like to say my life is better without him in it, and it probably is, but there’s still that little girl inside of me that wonders, what if?