My father left
us when I was just a small child. He had an affair, fell in love
with another woman, and moved across the country to be with her
while my mother stayed to raise two kids as a single mom.
We were just the left-over garbage in his
past. He never came to see us, never called to check on us -
neither I nor my sister have ever received a single birthday card
with his name on it. We had heard absolutely nothing from him for
fifteen years.
He showed up at our doorstep a week ago out
of the blue. I didn't want to let him inside, but Mom is all
about forgiveness. He isn't sleeping at our home (over my
dead body), but he's spent the entire evening with us every
day this week. He said he wanted to make amends, that he waited
too long to say he's sorry, and I think he's right. I
managed to track down his wife's contact information the
other day. As soon as I told her I was his eldest child, she
burst into tears, apologizing.
"I'm so sorry," she cried. "I would have
contacted you if I knew how. But your father passed away two
weeks ago."
