This week's Suck It Sunday is Father's-Day themed! Noooo, I'm not going to tell the father of my children to suck it...in case you were wondering. The father of my children, aka The Hubs, is an amazing, dedicated, fiercely protective father and I worship the ground he walks on.
I know he's going to read this and later come to me and say something like "You worship the ground I walk on? Well, can I get some of that worship in bed later tonight?"
Absolutely, honey. But only if you worship me first.
I bought The Hubs a few Father's Day goodies and wrapped them in bright, pink paper. It was the only "non-birthday" paper I had, and plus, it's not every day that a grown man gets presents wrapped in pretty pink paper. I wanted to make it *extra* special. You understand.
Ok, so back to the suck-it part. No, it's not The Hubs that I want to tell to suck it. It's my own father - my biological father. You see, he decided it would be a good idea to have an affair on my mother when I was four, divorce her, and then pick up and leave the state and disappear for all eternity when I was five.
I'm told the only thing he left in the house were the framed pictures he had of me. My mother walked through the empty house, and there were just randomly scattered pictures laying on the carpet throughout the house. Nice, dad. Thanks for the memory.
My extended family - his relatives - spent many years trying to get him to speak to me, updating him on my life - Tasha's turning seven, eight, nine...she's entering high school....whatever. Nothing worked. He chose not to speak to me or have any contact with my family. My letters came back unopened "return to sender".
When I was about 21 I finally got the hint and quit trying to contact him. But there was a lot of pain and feelings of abandonment involved in the process. During my entire childhood I had a strange feeling that something was missing in my heart, it's hard to explain but, that feeling's still there - even though I haven't seen my father in almost 30 years. Maybe I'll blog about that at some point.
He's still alive and living in Carson City, Nevada somewhere....I know you're asking yourself "Will she ever go find him?" The answer is no.
Sometimes on Father's Day, I'll sit back and reflect on what a douchebag my father is. I still don't know why he decided to leave, or why he chose not to have any contact with me, but I've come to peace with it.
He's a douchebag - that's why.
Oh yes, of course. Why didn't I realize that earlier?
So this week, I'd like to tell my biological father to SUCK IT. He's a pathetic, cheating, lying coward.
So suck it, father. Karma's a bitch.