Till Death Do Us Part

As a child, I can remember the beautiful picture of my father and me playing in the front yard. It is now 2009, I am no longer a child, and my parents are divorced.

I was about fourteen years old and starting out as a freshman in high school. High school was already scary enough with being at the bottom of the social food chain; it was even harder without my dad there. It came out of nowhere, a shock to everybody, especially me. Being so attched to my father I became weak. Letting anger get into the way of my school work while he was off living his new life, I was miserable not knowing how to live without him. Four years went by of moving into several different houses because my mother and I would get stressed when the house was quiet, and we would not want to be there. My home was an emotional mess. Things were getting worse between her and me and I thought I would lose her, too. Graduation was coming in a couple of months and be now my mother and I realized we had to get it together. We were not the best we had ever been, but we were okay. Having graduated, I was excited to start my new life as a stronger woman. The past was tough, and now, so was I. It will always affect my everyday life, as well as every action that I will make and also the ones I have already made. I was so filled with anger that not speaking to my father in four years had taken a lot out of me.

One day as I was reading the newspaper I saw an ad that was screaming for attention. Once I read it, I realized it was not just screaming for anybody’s attention, it was screaming for attention from me. It said my whole name and encouraged me to please call my father because he missed me. I sat there and pondered how I would call since I did not have his phone number. When I came across the number left for me to call, I was astonished. I read it over and over again as if I was waiting for it to just vanish right before my eyes. My eyes blinked a few times as I waited. I called. Before the first ring could finish, I hung up the phone. I took a deep breath, blinked a few times, and decided I was ready to try again. A few rings echoed through my ears like tunnels that last forever. Before he could answer, I hung up because my nerves got to me.

Finally, I came to the conclusion that because I was now a strong woman, I needed to take action. I called and finally heard his voice for the first time in many years. As I said his first name, he responded by asking who was speaking. My response was stern and quick as I said, “Your daughter.” As soon as I said that he sounded as thrilled as a five year old on Christmas morning. we talked for hours. After days, weeks, and months went by I was determined to forgive him. Part of the I reason I was forgiving him was because he was my father; the other reason was because I knew in my heart it would be the right thing to do. It has been more than a year since this unique experience happened to me. I am happy to say that now my fiance’ and I make a trip to my father’s house every weekend, which is just and hour away. My father’s new family, my fiance’, and I play games all weekend and just enjoy life.

This I believe has changed my life.