On the year mark of my brother’s death I was overwhelmed with the grief as I made my way to school. I immediately texted my sister to let her know she crossed my heart and mind but that reopened a wound inside of me that has yet to heal.
There is still one man…biological father…he spread his seed and produced children that really don’t know him at all. At least I feel like I don’t know him.
At times in my life I remember reaching out to him to simply ask him to be more present in my life. It was never about money, I was just a little girl who knew her father but didn’t understand why he wasn’t very present in my life. I had a daddy, my godfather, who did an awesome job being a father figure, but my last name is Williams…and that is the man who should have been there.
Four women had their lives affected by his handsome charm I am sure. But a woman only knows a man that is hers in the moment. I’m sure each mother loved my father, but did he really love them? After all, there are five children.
Five children grew up estranged because even though we know each other, the centerpiece to our connectivity, our father…didn’t bridge those relationships. I have an older sister, regardless to the circumstances, two older brothers (R.I.P. Tim), and a younger brother. There is a 10 year gap between my youngest brother and I, and for me I’m somewhat cherishing his presence.
Sadly, we are all still 1 father, 4 mothers, and 5 children because my father was absent.
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