The day I met my father

It was Saturday early morning around 10:00 am, I remember because I didn’t have school. I was sleeping and out of nowhere comes my ex-stepfather who wakes me up and tells me “get up YOUR FATHER JUST DIED” I was like what?! YOUR FATHER JUST DIED, I was extremely confused because I didn’t know who he was talking about, I knew growing up that my step father wasn’t my biological father, but I also never heard anything about the man he was talking about, at the time my mother owned a grocery store, (all of this happened while I lived the Dominican Republic which is where I am from). When I got to the grocery store there was my mother with a careless sassy face telling me, oh so just go to his funeral so you get to know him, I was confused, shook, and whatever other senseless emotions I can use to best describe what was going through my mind. Nothing was making sense as you can imagine, I have never met this man in my entire life as far as I can remember. I remember a memory of when I was 5 years old of meeting him, but when I look back, I think that was just a dream I don’t remember it as being real. There’s were no words to express the confusion I was going through, I remember when we got to the funeral home, I didn’t ask any questions and, on the way, there as I was trying to process what I was just told, but the level of confusion was out of this world. The first person I saw was an uncle I knew my whole life on my mother’s side. We happen to be a very large family, I always thought he was my uncle on my mother’s side, but it wasn’t until I saw him, I realized what was going on, there was no need for introductions. My step father approaches my biological’s father mother and proceed to tell her I was ‘Freddie's son’ meaning his son, she grabbed me by my left arm as she cried uncontrollably and tells me oh look at your father repeatedly, which made me feel awfully uncomfortable. I looked at my step father like WHAT ON EARTH AM I DOING HERE? I felt completely lost, there were no words to describe the sense of confusion in my head, like you couldn’t even imagine! Perhaps I forgot to mention I was around 13 or 14 years old, so my understanding was according to my age, also I should say I didn’t have any knowledge the man who they called my father.

I don’t remember how I ended up approaching his casket, but I did, probably because of the pressure of the moment, I don’t remember what I saw, I don’t have an image of his face on my mind, head, memories, nothing at all, that’s how confused I was. I was blinded by confusion, and again nothing was making any sense, I remember the casket’s color was grey but nothing about his look. I do remember my step father made an hysterical face and said to me WOW WOW YOU LOOK JUST LIKE HIM , I look at him with disgust, and said I don’t think so, I don’t see it! As we take a seat my step father asked “let me know when you want to get going” to which I replied IF I HAVE KNOWN I WOULDN’T HAVE EVEN BOTHER COMING HERE, WE CAN LEAVE NOW! “WHAT AM I GOING TO ASK TO A DEAD MAN?” is what I asked myself! I asked my stepfather to drop me off at my aunt’s house who lived no too far from the funeral home, as he dropped me out, he advised me to go back to the funeral so I get to know my biological’s father’s family, I looked at him once again with disgust, because at the time I was under the impression my mother didn’t want me to know my biological because she didn’t want my stepfather feel some type of way. Therefore, his advice was out of place to me. I spent the remaining of the day at my aunt’s home because I was very close to her and just wanted to spend the day with my cousins.

When I got back to my mom’s grocery store at night time, out of nowhere comes a neighbor who lived across the street from my house to give me her condolences and a hug. I responded with all the honesty in the world, I DIDN’T KNOW THAT MAN, I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE CONDOLENCES ARE FOR. I UNDERSTOOD I DINT LOOSE ANYONE, THAT MAN LAYING ON THE CASKET WAS A COMPLETE STRANGER TO ME, I assumed my mother have told my neighbor what happened. I didn’t care who was trying to be supported or comforting for what they have considered to be a challenging time, or loss. I was 13/14 years old, I wasn’t old or mature enough to process or even understand something like this. Plus, I felt I was thrown into a cold-blooded life experience. As the time went by nothing changed because as I mentioned before I understood I didn’t lose anyone, so it was easy to get on with my life, everything was normal and on track for Jonathan, that was my understanding at the time. As an adult now I understand the whole comforting/support idea, but not back then. As I got on with my life and the years went by ,I think hearing about who he was started to become normal, meaning my mother would talk about him and his mom in a way that I don’t remember exactly, but I remember his name would come up sometimes and I wouldn’t care for it. I started to develop consciousness , and wondered to myself a question I never asked anyone before , or even myself, WHY WASN’T HE PART OF MY LIFE?, which little by little enable me to develop a sense of hate, questioning constantly WHY WASN’T HE PART OF MY LIFE? AND WHY WOULD NOBODY ANSWER THAT FOR ME? It was like adults wanted an 13/14 years old boy to disregard what life was about to unfold for me, or wanted me to forget an event that couldn’t be stopped from happening.

I don’t know how I developed this sense of hate treated towards someone who had not part in my life, perhaps because I saw my mother show up every day for her parenting duties but he didn’t and I knew my step father wasn’t my biological father, therefore I started to understand someone was missing in the picture, and was nowhere to be found, or at least that’s what I though and saw throughout the course of my young life, or perhaps it was because I would see my childhood friends both of their parents showing up for parenting duty every day, and some of their parents weren’t together ,but they would still be part of their lives. I think that played a big part of it, there was a constant questioning in my life about why my ‘father’ wasn’t there? I look back and understand I probably sheltered myself on resentment towards him even though he was gone, but at my young age I understood I was getting to him somehow, by talking badly about him and being happy and extremely delight he was gone, that he didn’t deserve to be alive if I wasn’t his responsibility. I think what make things even more difficult was hearing from his own family , his mother, my uncle the one I recognized at the funeral ,because my mother would bring me to his meat shop and he was always happy to see me , up to the point when I go visit to the Dominican Republic I always stop by his house and spend a good amount of time there , and have a relationship with him, his wife and his children, they are very welcoming. I guess I can find some comfort there. My uncle has been able to answer some question for me, but he had to admit my biological father wasn’t a very responsible person and wouldn’t listen to family advise when it came to the children he brought to earth. Yes I do have siblings, but I have half-brother and what’s mind blowing is that he was my “friend”, he went to the 8th grade together in the Dominican. The last thing about him was about 3 years ago, he was going through the same (hating process I went through) so I gave him some time alone, because I knew better. Plus, he is adopted and thought his adoptive parents weren’t his biological, so I can only imagine it was even more painful finding out all of this, I do have some other sibling but I only got to meet two before I left the Dominican.

The hating towards him got so bad, my mother yelled at me once, I guess she was getting tired of my melancholy, she asked me, what did he do to you? I don’t remember what I responded, I don’t think I did, I don’t recall how long this lasted, but it wasn’t long, I think after a while I got tired of so much questioning and hate towards him, that I started questioning my mother about why didn’t I get to meet him, but never did I ever confront her, this questioning took place only in my head. I didn’t have the guts to say anything to her, I remember growing up she was a woman of a strong character, I didn’t know what she was capable of saying or doing, plus over time I understood it wasn’t her responsibility to make sure he had a relationship with me, if it would been of his interest he knew exactly where he could find me and my mother no dought about that. I’m glad it never become anything more than just a questioning in my head, my mother had little resources available, access to education was and still is extremely limited in the Dominican, so I am always mindful about that, you can’t ask a parent to give what they haven’t been given, or what they don’t have to give. I’m grateful she did what she could with what she had/ knew at the time. But you know, at a young age you don’t know these things, you do whatever you understand will make you feel better, I thought it made me feel better, and perhaps it did at at 13/14 years old, but the fact that he wasn’t present was bad. But what was even worst the hate I developed over time, which could have brought me into depression, but it didn’t ,when I started to put pieces together , that’s what made the whole experience a traumatic event in my life, I don’t remember what happened over the years, I would like to say I put that hate to rest, meaning I think I forgot about it, but it was there , I was unhealed from that experience, but once again it was still there. WAITING TO BE AWAKEN, I GUESS. I was able to have a good teenage life, I just wasn’t healed for the hate I had developed ,but it didn’t stop me from living day by day .Years later I joined a church and while being a member of the church I was baptized, I remember that being ONE OF THE GREATEST DAY OF MY LIFE, it was an early morning at the country house owned by the church I attended at the time, the house had a river running behind and that’s where the baptism took place, I was in line waiting to be baptized along with many people I knew from church, it was finally my turn and the pastor proceeded to introduce me to everyone who was present as she knew a little bit about me. I was baptized that day, my family wasn’t present, I guess I didn’t feel the need to share this, you ask me why, my answer is I don’t know also I didn’t think to tell anyone, I probably shared with my mother later, but my family at the time I don’t remember them as religious people. Later that night, I was home by myself, chatting on the computer with friends and playing music. I played a song called EL PADRE QUE SIEMPRE SONE BY ABEL ZAVALA, TRANSLATED TO ENGLISH, THE FATHER I ALWAYS DREAMED OF. I don’t know what happened that night but suddenly out of nowhere I started crying and EXPRESSING MY FORGIVENESS TOWARDS HIM AS AND APPROACHED THE PAIN I WAS SUFFERING FROM WITH COMPASSION AND UNDERSTANDING, and being free from all trauma and pain, I look at this day as ONE OF THE GREATEST DAY OF MY LIFE, because I know I was healed from the pain I developed after my father’s death, I look back and I remember I was angry, hurt and all those emotions I felt when I realized ,my father didn’t want to be part of my life. I remember that because I can’t erase it, but the pain is no longer there, I developed pain unconsciously and thought it was joy, or happiness, I couldn’t see it because I was blinded by hate and confusion, and I’m thankful it didn’t lead me to hate my mother or hate myself.

You know no having a father in my life wasn’t and still isn’t easy, sometimes I still question a compassionate approach, if my life would have been any different? I mean I just know what I felt for many year ago. But that’s a question I will never have an answer too, I don’t know to be honest the circumstances why he wasn’t there, my mother really didn’t say much and never did she talk bad about him, she did share that she tried to approach him and his mother about me, and never got an answer or help, therefore she decided to rise me by herself and do whatever she could. I am grateful for all the sacrifices she made. But I don’t remember who said to me, children always need both of their parents, even if they don’t have much to offer when it came to money. I believe this to be true, I mean I always tell people being poor in the Dominican Republic and being poor in the United States are two completely different things. I lived in a shack in the Dominican, but never did I think of asking for something more, I was happy I had everything I understood I needed, plus I didn’t know any better about what the world had to offer, I was happy in the shack. I had a roof over my head, decent food, and cousins and friends to share a healthy childhood. At my young age I didn’t think my life could get any better, I had a smile on my face, and life was great in the shack I was living. So why couldn’t he be there just to say SON HERE I AM? AND AS A TYPE THIS I HAVE TEARS ON MY EYE , BECAUSE IT IS A QUESTION I DON’T KNOW IF I WILL EVER HAVE AN ANSWER, THE CHALLENGE OF NO HAVING A PARENT PRESENT IS A DAILY CONSTANT BATTLE WITH YOUR MIND. I battle with many things but battling with forgiving my father is something I only needed to do once, there’s moments the dark memory of hate tries to confuse me, but I truly did forgive him, my healed heart doesn’t let me go back to it.

The mystery of life nobody will ever understand, there’s those who have what I wish I had, and don’t appreciate it, and life really does like to tease, like I’m always witnessing children of all ages disrespecting their parents. I was recently on Christmas vacation in Mexico, and I see this 12/13 years old boy back talking to his dad, when all he was trying to do was making sure he corrected him for his misbehavior, I almost did approach this kid and said, HEY YOU DON’T KNOW HOW LUCKY YOU ARE TO HAVE A FATHER WHO CARES FOR YOU, I NEVER GOT TO MET MY FATHER, I WISH I HAD A FATHER TO CORRECT ME FOR MY MISBEHAVIOR. But I just let it be and kept walking, or about 10 years ago I was on the train to Boston to visit with my mother, and there’s this man sitting behind me talking on the phone, I guess he’s kids wanted nothing to do with him or there was some sort dysfunctional relationship, that’s the impression I got, I will always remember the words he said. THEY DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH THE MEAN TO ME, IF THEY ONLY KNEW HOW MUCH I LOVE THEM. I don’t remember if I faced down and cried. Because that’s what I wanted in my life, A FATHER WHO CARES FOR ME, even if he didn’t have anything financially or material to offer, that’s the reality I live, constantly being put in this type of scenario, children taking their parents for granted. Sometimes I think to myself, maybe you just have that mentality because you didn’t have a father, and you wish you could have it to value that, those are infinite question that I don’t know if they will ever have an answer.

I am healed and move on. Now if you were to ask me, Jonathan do you believe God was the author of you healing? Do you believe in God ?, my answers would be YES, I DO BELIEVE IN GOD, Now if you ask me DO YOU BELIEVE IN RELIGION? I WOULD ANSWER BACK WITH A QUESTION? WHAT’S RELIGION TO YOU? I think a lot of people don’t believe in God or religion because the poor representation of God’s kingdom, I think the majority of people uses the religion to cover up their insecurities rather than working on them. It is easy to memorize a couple chapters from the bible and use them on your favor to seem very knowledgeable, then admit that YOU NEED TO WORK ON YOURSELF AND FORGET ABOUT WHAT OTHERS ARE DOING WITH THEIR LIVES. I WASN’T PUT ON EARTH TO JUDGE ANYONE FOR HOWEVER THEY CHOOSE TO LIVE THEIR LIVES, BECAUSE I DO TOO LIVE MY LIFE AS I WANT AND PLEASE, AND IF I THINK IM GOING ACCORDING TO THE LIVE, I WANT TO LIVE RELIGION OR NO RELIGION, GOD OR NO GOD, I WOULDN’T WANT ANYONE TO INTERFERE WITH IT.

I am healed by the grace of God, I don’t attend anyone to believe me, because I know there isn’t any more pain on my heart from my father absence. But I do encourage anyone who has been in my position to encounter healing in whatever way you find it more approachable. I’m blessed and I’m healed, and despite the fact I didn’t get to meet my biological father, I embrace everything around me, my life has been blessed with many people as well as with the extraordinary mother I have. She was able to provide for me with what live had to give to get her, I know all the sacrifices she made, and as her grateful son, I will make sure to look after her until her very last second of breath.

I send you a lot of love and peace, today and always.

Love Jonathan De Jesus.

Higuey, Dominican Republic 1999