Goodbye, Daddy

I met the bio-donor, finally, when I was 16. When I walked away, I was 17.
This little snapshot into the past, is my last memory of him … Just another lesson in life.

***

After turning to leave, for the last time – I forced myself forward; to not look back, for fear that if I turned to look at him, for that one last time, I would turn to …

It was the last time I would ever lay eyes upon him, My Father.

I can still hear the echo of his deep, sultry voice, saying, “I Love You, Stormy.”

And I remember thinking, ‘No, no you don’t … you couldn’t possibly, after what you’ve done … but i can leave now, knowing that much.’

I had wanted him to … prayed he would.

I worked hard to find him; My Father. I needed his love.

A Father’s Love – an unconditional, protective, abundant love.

I suppose he tried, in the only ways he knew how.

Somewhere in those final words, I thought I detected a note of sadness, and a hint of regret.

Maybe he knew too …

Another seed, unable to take root.

One bad choice changes everything.

And my eyes sting … even now.

~ by osmosisofaffliction on October 4, 2009.