Today was a long work day. Not as long as some - Not as short as others. 6:00 am to 3:30 p.m. The phone rang a couple of times and I was too busy to answer.
One of the calls was my Mom -- Once work was over, I rang her back. The bad news of the day is that Gary, the biological father, is sick. He has had Hep for ages. His liver is failing. He is not a candidate for transplant or live donor (or what ever is called). My brother, Josh, called and told my Mom that he has been really sick for the past couple of days.
She said she would give me his number so I could call and talk to him. I declined. I told her there is nothing that I really have to say to him. And after I said it -- I knew it was true. She said when he does die I will have unfinished business and feel bad about it. I told her no, I didn't really think so. I made my peace with not having a relationship with him a long time ago. The deal was really sealed when I took Lilly home last October. He had the opportunity to see us and chose to take his new girlfriend camping instead. Of course, as usual, he did not call to let me know that until the last minute. The last minute being after I had waited all day for him to call or show up. I had left him several voice mails and all of that. He never called.
I realized then that I was done. I was done waiting for him. I was done with him. I was never going to put my daughter through what I have spent a lifetime doing. Waiting for him to love me. I do not want Lilly to ever have to wonder about him, wonder if he will show up or wonder why he does not care. Or be upset because he put someone else above her.
Every thing I do, I do for her. And if that means being done with him. So be it.
I do care about him. Just as I care for someone that I knew once but never see. But not the love that a daughter has for a father. Hell, I would have offered to give him part of my liver - or however that works. I would offer that to any family member that needed it. Not necessarily out of love, but because I would help just about anyone.
What does this have to do with being a fat chick you ask?
Damn near everything.
The things that happen in our childhood shape the adults we become. And he had his fair share of shaping me -- That is for sure. But that is done now - I take full responsibility for who I am now. Good, bad or indifferent.
I wish him peace. I wish him better health and happiness.