'Nother Open Letter.

Today is your birthday. At age 54, you still haven't become that father figure I wished you would become.

When I say, "father figure" maybe I don't even know if I know what that means. To me it means, a man. A man who loves his family, who cares about his family, who is involved in his family.

I can't speak for you, but I would guess you do love your family and you do care about your family. The involved part is where you fall short. The SHOWING you care and love your family is where the bottom drops.

I have grown up without the support of a father figure. You weren't there for birthdays, you weren't there for the first break up, you weren't there for the first born grandchild. You just weren't there. You still aren't there.

Without the support of a father figure I have turned to other men in my life to show me the love and support that I was so lacking from you. That is a large bill for someone else to pay. No other man can give me what you so selfishly kept from me. YOU.

You were young, I can give you that. I understand at the age of 20, when I was born, you probably didn't get what it meant for your life to have a child. I am sure that at 20 I didn't get what it would mean and change in my life.

Though now, at the age of 54, it seems you still don't get it. If you DO get it, you have given up! We have let the last 22 years go by and we have gotten comfortable in our role of no relationship.

For me it was easier. Easier to go on living the out of sight out of mind. I had to, what other choice was I given. It was either carry the ENTIRE relationship on my shoulders or rely on you to take some of the burden. Burden. That is exactly what it has felt like to me. It was a BURDEN to continue and maintain a relationship with me once Mom regained custody. At age 12, it wasn't something that should have been put on me to keep intact.

I feel disappointed with you, I feel hurt by you and I feel unloved by you. I want to know that I have made you proud, I want to know that you are sorry for how distant you have been, I want to know you care and have cared.

Most of all, I want you to know how I feel. I don't mean that I want to make you hurt, because I don't, but I want you to hear it from my mouth, understand it through my eyes, feel it through my heart. I want you to know.

*side note, I have put in two calls to my father for a "sit down and have coffee talk" with no return calls*

Stressed

I have mentioned before that my relationship with my father is strained.

Every year, I get close to the kids' birthdays and I start stressing. Do I invite him and his family? Do I not invite him?

It is coming up on Buggy's eighth birthday and I am having a panic attack over this issue. I am ALREADY having this pain in my chest and the party is two weeks away. The invitations still sit here on my desk.

My kids really don't know my father. He hasn't exactly been around much for me or my kids.

In fact, the other day, Buggy said, "Isn't your dad dead?"

No, I am so sorry to say he isn't. I don't mean that I wish he was dead, but I am sorry that he hasn't been around more so that my kids KNOW he is alive. I feel sorry for him and that just angers me even more.

How do you father/mother children and then walk away?

I am a mom. First and foremost I am a mom, I can't imagine not having daily contact with my kids. As they get older I would expect nothing less than weekly (preferably more) contact.

I struggle with wanting my dad in my life and the possibility of him disappointing my children the way he has me and my brother. I struggle with keeping him out of my children's life because there is nothing more that I want than my own father to be a part of something that means so much to me.

I think by inviting him it is still me trying, trying to get him to be the person I so desperately want him to be. I can't make him be that person. He has had 34 years of my life to be that person and he hasn't chosen to be; there is nothing I can do to make that happen. It is me trying to say look at what you are missing. Not only are missing out on me, look at these marvelous creatures I have been blessed with.

It is a stressful struggle. Do I invite him and await the inevitable disappointment? Do I keep putting myself through that?

Do I not invite him and then wonder what if I invited him and he came? What if it would make the difference?

Do I save myself the pain, do I spare my children or do I bite the bullet so that they may have a chance to see him?

These thoughts circle my brain and make my heart strain.

Birthdays are suppose to be fun, not so heart wrenching.