I write from a heavy heart. Usually I would not write in this state, but again yes I would. I guess the difference is that I am sharing it with you.I started seriously writing poetry in my late teens— I came to discover I was good. A long way from putting together catchy rhymes as a kid—yet even back then I realized I had a talent there. Fast-forward to today, and you would not believe that one of my biggest insecurities is writing. Yes, the one thing I feel confident about is one of my fears. Fears that I sound uneducated, I’vemade a punctual error or that I simply do not make sense. The list is endless. Spiritualists associate many personal struggles with the role your mother or father played in yourlife. Specifically they say your relationship with your father determines how you “show up” in life and how confident you believein doing so. Good ‘ol common sense can confirm that there is some truth in that. I never knew my biological father and recently have learned that he passed away a couple of years ago. Open hearted by nature I cried a river of tears. I don’tfeel anger--yet. I don’tfeel a disconnect. I feel pain. I feel loss. Many times the world tries to project to others on who we should hate or dislike. Who is not worthy of our love, tears, or heartache, especiallyif that someone has hurt us. Thankfully no one directly did that to me in association to my biological father. I was never givenany ill information or side remarks about him accept for the limited facts. As a child this gave birth to an illusion, that one-day wemay connect and have a relationship. Over time I accepted it was not going to happen but maybe I would get to know him through death. This gave way to my second fantasy that there would be this big funeral and I would connect and meet long lost siblings and relatives. Confirmation of his death and final arrangements already taken place took away that hope. So I mourn the father who I never had in life and in death. The saying goes, “weeping may endure for the night, but joy comes in the morning.” Perhaps my weeping may endure for many nights, but I still believe my joy will come. And I'll keep writing through the fear. Until then, it is all one day at a time. xo
Are you reading this on a mobile device? Scroll down and click “Web Version” to see more content and info.