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Me and my dad

I’ve finished half a pack of Luckies, still thinking about what to write about the man I’m supposed to call father. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not like any other rebellious teenager out there exhibiting the i-hate-my-parents angst.

Truth is, I’ve seen my dad lesser than I’ve seen my Math 17 professor, and I’ve talked to him less frequently than the guys I flirt with at the mIRC. Let’s call him an “absentee” father.

For backgrounders, my family’s kind of abnormal. My dad is in the States with his other family, my mom in Germany with hers, and I stay here with my mom’s side of the family.

Going back to my dad, I honestly don’t feel as much affection as what he says he does to me. Call me an ingrate, or simply bad, but our relationship is purely based on long distance calls or text messages; and calling him my dad may be just for formality’s sake.

I’ve heard before that he used to bet on horse races just to make sure he’d have extra money to spare and send it to me, but it’s an obligation he has to do, nothing special. It’s not that I can’t see the effort he does or exerts to make sure my future is secure, but the point of being my father is not based on these things alone.

He was never there when I had to shave for the first time. Or when I fixed my room light. Or when I was circumcised. Or when I graduated from grade/high school.

I might sound too shallow, even pointless, but a father can only be called one if he did stuff that can make him deserve the title. It’s like this: how can you be a diver if you don’t know how to dive; or why become a priest if you yourself can not fight temptation?

I’m not saying my dad is stupid. For my half brothers, he might be a good dad, but for my case, he just wasn’t there. He doesn’t know me, and vice versa. imagine his reaction when I tell him, “Dad, I’m gay.” I bet he’ll be ballistic. And that’s because he won’t be able to understand why. He wasn’t there to see me grow up, or how I developed through the years to make sure that I will be what he wants me to be.

Pardon to the other father-less people out there. I also felt what you feel so please don’t assume I’m just bitter or plain thankless.

So far, we haven’t had any huge disagreements. He still calls, makes sure he knows what’s happening but it’s not enough. Distance may be the only thing that’s literally separating us. Had he been just in a five mile radius, I may not be his reluctant full-fledged son.

If there is ever one reason for me to say I love him, it’s for recognizing me as his son, and continually checking up on me. It’s just so sad that he wasn’t here at the times he should have been here.

And only then will I strongly say that my dad is the best one in the world…