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Life before my mother left my father is very blurry. I vaguely remember my mom rushing to get our stuff packed before he came home drunk again. That was the day after he blackened her face. I was told that she had a busted nose, a black eye, a busted lip, not to mention bruises on other parts of her body.
Life just continues to go on doesn’t it? It’s funny, when I think about my early days, I have no anger or any pain. I just have confusion. But, then I think, what would life have been like if he was around? I bet it would have been a lot worse than it already was. The last time that I heard from my father in seven years was on my seventh birthday. He had called my mom after 10 pm, after I had already gone to bed, to tell her that he was on his way over with a bunch of presents. I was told that he was drunk and he probably did not even remember calling me. However, my mom did wake me up and told me that he was on his was over. I didn’t hear or see him for seven years.
I am a strong believer that everything happens for a reason. Maybe my father finally realized that he wasn’t good enough to be my father. Whatever the case maybe it didn’t have an effect on me one way or another.