“I always wondered what kinds of assumptions she had.” Did she know my absence wasn’t my choice?
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Being an absentee dad was never my intention but it became my reality after my daughter was a year old and for her next fifteen years. I already told the story of how I became a dad who didn’t have contact with his daughter. It wasn’t my choice. She was kept from me.
Almost coincidentally, a few months after the publication of that article, I received a Facebook message. It was from my daughter.
And with one ping, I had the opportunity to set things right…
The message was cut off in the notification, but a few words showed almost verbal dialog: “Hi, um, I’m, uh, your daughter. I wanted–”
I couldn’t read the rest—not then—and wasn’t sure what kind of message this was. It could be one of curiosity. Maybe one of indifference. Maybe it was full of good, or one full of venom. Rationally, it could have been either. I wasn’t there for fifteen years. Actually, she was kept from me for fifteen years.
I looked at my wife. “She messaged me.” There was no need for explanation—we knew this day would come, but I didn’t expect it until she was well into her college years. “I cannot read this tonight, because I won’t be able to sleep. This changes everything.”
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My wife agreed. And no, waiting until the morning to read that message didn’t help me sleep.
Her message continued: “I wanted to meet you, and my mom said it was okay if I message you … so yeah. I kinda just wanted to get to know you and all. I got most of my best talents from you, so naturally I wanted to talk.”
It was like a wave of relief and happiness. I always wondered what kinds of stories she heard about me, and what kinds of assumptions she has had. Maybe my wrongs weren’t exaggerated; maybe my defeatism wasn’t known. Or maybe my faults were known but were forgiven? Maybe nothing was known about me and she was curious and welcoming. And maybe the shit will hit the fan eventually?
That message came at the end of January and we have Facebooked, texted or talked on the phone at least every other day (she lives in the desert, away from cellphone and Internet service, so has to go into town to use the phone).
It’s been good.
We’ve had a couple of heavy talks, discussing the past and inquiring about my leaving her mom, moving back to Chicago, and getting my crap together and staying off the streets.
The hardest was having her ask if I regretted having her. “Of course not. How could I? You’re perfect!” The things that must have gone through her head all these years!
For Valentine’s Day, I went all out. I bought her tons of stuff, and got a card almost as tall as her. A sort of playing catch-up, as I see it. I’m not rich, but all these years I wanted to send her something but knew it wouldn’t be welcomed by her mother, so I hadn’t.
Am I spoiling her?
Maybe a little. I drop a package here and there of a book or two, or four (she loves to read), and am stock-piling a care package to send her for her seventeenth birthday. Expressions of love, tokens of appreciation.
I have begged her forgiveness so often that I think it almost annoys her—essentially I want to then apologize for apologizing. Her wanting to be in my life means so much to me. I have never been so overwhelmed with emotion towards anyone with exception of a couple in my life, my wife being one of them.
I tell my daughter about my life, my teen years, my small business, my hobbies. I want to her to feel like she has always kind of been there, piecing together what she missed in my life, to sort of implant some memories. And she fills me in on what she’s been up to the past fifteen years, sending me pictures, helping me piece together a hazy collage of what I missed out on.
There’s a lot of growth and mending to do, yet.
It’s been beautiful getting to meet my daughter through the mail, phone and computer. The next stage is obvious and necessary, and it’s just as scary and exciting.
We will meet and reunite, and I will hold her and hug her, telling her how perfect of a daughter she is. And I will probably apologize. Again and again.
Photo: Pexels
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https://www.thestar.com/news/gta/2017/05/05/how-a-facebook-message-introduced-a-father-to-the-daughter-he-never-knew-he-had.html
Crazy chit happens in life….wish it upon no one….
Thank you for sharing that. It’s a cool story. Sharing it to her FB wall.
The most important thing you can do now is save as much as possible to help with college and the myriad of expenses that go with it.
At this point in her and my developing relationship, college is not the most important thing. The relationship is.
Awesome, Steve.
Life changes on a dime, and it grants new opportunities to make things right.
Apologize for what you have to, but only once. She’s your daughter. She does not want apology, she wants her daddy in her life. It’s about her now, not your guilt. Be her daddy.
Thank you for the encouragement. Good times ahead!