It was only a few years ago when I got the shock of my life when he saw me while out with his other daughters, none of whom had mothers he married. He suddenly introduced me and announced to them that I’m his real daughter. I had no idea. But no wonder we looked alike.
I was very shocked and just pretended that I knew it. He made plans for a family gathering but my family had plans already so we weren’t able to come.
That was the one and only time he acknowledged me as a daughter as far as I know. He never reached out nor tried to get to know me, us.
I asked mom yesterday if he was really my father and she said she doesn’t know. What the fuck?! Now it’s too late to get a paternity test. These people should have used condoms during their trysts because they’re just bringing children who are messed up into this world.
I am not sad. I am angry. Ever since I was a baby, I thought I had a different father who got kicked out of the house for being an alcoholic. Then I find out the real father is just someone who never cared about me and that hurts even more.
Maybe I should be thankful that he even acknowledged me. I would have if he followed through with other attempts but he didn’t. He lavished on the kids of his other women so why not toward me and my sister? I don’t want to ask his agreement with my mother because I have a feeling I would end up resenting my mom.
His death is bringing up so many buried issues I have and it’s only the beginning of November.