I believe in forgiveness, life is too short to hold a grudge for the rest of your life. I always hated my dad for not being there, I thought he was the biggest loser. He and my Mother were sixteen when they had me and my twin sister. My dad was just a little thug running the streets of Rochester and my mom was a busy lady in her teen party life. My sister and I went to live for our grandmother for awhile, while my mother had the life in Rochester. She finally grew up and came back for us when we started school. I was too little to hate her or know any better, but I’m happy she came back for us.
My father never grew up though. He liked his thug life, I guess. He stayed in Rochester or wherever he decided to go; he came and visited me and my sister a couple of times up until we were five. I could probably count on one hand as many times as he came to see us. I remember waking up in the morning on Christmas finding presents under our beds thinking they were from our father, but in reality my mother just wrote his name on them. I remember him calling us and arguing with him because I called him Mike instead of dad. My sister loved him so much, I still don’t understand why. She never saw him, she wanted to be his favorite girl so bad, but he wasn’t ever there for her. She blamed my mother for him not seeing us, but I knew it wasn’t her fault.
Ten years later we meet up with him and spend time with him. It was fun at first. Now it’s back to the way it was when I was five. I don’t hate him for not answering my phone calls or calling me back. I think life is too short to hold a grudge. I will still be here if he ever comes around and wants a real relationship with me. I don’t hate him for not helping me out in life. I still love him even though he doesn’t deserve my love. Maybe someday he will grow up and realize life is too short to just waste. My and my sister was his first children and at the end of the day even without his help or guidance, I still love him. Life is too short to hold a grudge.