The luck of the Irish ☘️ or NOT 3/17/1998

On Saint Patrick’s day of 1998, my first born son was born. At least that is what I THOUGHT. During labor, I was kicked out of the room because I was watching the Georgetown Hoyas Basketball game the night prior when my son’s mother began to have contractions. It was the NIT and they lost to Georgia Tech, I believe. I was given the gift of a healthy baby boy. I cried for two reasons: 1) I was a father 2) I was scared to death. I had started a full time job 3 months prior and was dealing with a paternity case at the same time, as If that was not enough. I was out of control mentally and, in my opinion, my son’s mother was not much better.  Before he was even born, the arguments were out of control and I was headed for a domestic case. That eventually happened and to be honest, I could and should have been arrested more times than I was. I was too weak to leave and had such a large ego that I couldn’t allow someone to disrespect me. I do not know how I survived this relationship without doing some jail time. I left that relationship with so many emotional scars, they started to age me.  

      My son and I had a loving relationship to the point that everyone around me was shocked when I was not allowed to see him for a long time for no apparent reason. The excuse was we did not have a court order and I could steal him, so I was told. That was the beginning of the end.  When you fight for someone but can not spend time with them, it results in you having no clue what they think and or believe. I had no say in my son’s life. I had joint custody, paid child support and insurance, yet from age 6 until this day, I do not know my son and he does not know me. I know I did the best I could do with what I had at the time. I do not feel guilty, but I use feel to. I would think about all the ways I could fix the situation, resulting in many sleepless nights. Now, I am just hurt and disappointed. To this day, he claims I did something to him and that is why he keeps his distance from me. The funny thing is, I never beat my son and I never abused him in that way. However,  I yelled at him, and said some things that were wrong. I probably overreacted numerous times. I just never did anything to him that should have made him scared of me or not want to be around me, ever! What I did is a mystery, and if I try to talk to him about it, it stretches the rift between even more.  Even when we talk now, it’s phony. 

       I am here whenever my son wants me to be.  I have been.  I have been waiting to establish a relationship with him and grow old with him in my life the way it began.  However, that is out of my control.  So I will work on myself, pray and let time work.  I wanted to be a great father. I always believed that was a vital part of being a great man. For years I beat myself up because I could not be a great father to my Child. I could not even be a father.  I would get sad when people asked me about him. I would keep it short.  I would not sleep for weeks.  I was killing myself emotionally and physically.  I smoked, drank and ate poorly.  On top of that… I hated myself.  A good day for me years ago was one that ended with sex.  However, I would wake up the next morning with the same pain and repeat the insanity.  I was addicted to affection, but it was meaningless. It was like a drug and I was hooked.  This process repeated for years.  I would not allow myself to feel. I felt like I was not worthy.

      I must have lived almost two decades like this, meeting so many wonderful and beautiful women. I broke them the way my relationship with my son was broken.  When I began to realize what I was doing, I got help. The help gave me the tools, but I had to practice using them. More time has gone by.  Then I began to change. Change for the better. I started to hold myself accountable in every way and started being honest almost all the time. Is there anyone who is honest all the time? About everything? I do not believe so. I am working on that.  Honesty hurts.  Honesty at times makes a lie feel welcome.  Try to be honest for one day.

Check this out. You are at work and someone you barely know says “don’t you just love our boss?” You don’t like him at all, yet you say “he is alright.”  LIE!!!  You do not want to say you like him, you also do not want to say you hate him.  That’s what it means.  We are never totally honest all the time.  At least most of us. There may be a few outliers.

      Here is my truth!  I want to be a better father to my son.  If I get the chance, I will be ready.  There will always be space to love someone who wants my love. That’s the truth. I love my son from afar and I wish him the best all the time. I want him to be happy. Truly happy. Not happy in the moment, happy because he has life.  It pains me to know I do not know if he is happy or if he is not. I do not know what he likes or doesn’t like. I don’t talk to my son frequently.  My future step children are closer to me than my son and they do not even live with me yet. I am not trying to make up for my mistakes by being a good parent to my step children. That is who I became over time.  I have to accept what I have become and understand I can’t change the past.  Hopefully, I will live long enough to have a solid relationship with my son.

Thank you for reading my friend

Wakime