Daughters

I have two daughters. One (19) won’t talk to me and the other (16) only calls when there is a need for money. I think that there is a point for a man when it is blatantly obvious that daughters and fathers are a contentious issue.

The ladies I speak to always encourage me to wait. I let days and weeks which turn into months and now years, go by. Still the equation remains the same. I see no improvement in the situation and I am ready to throw the towel in. If I already haven’t done so.

As I sit here now I realize the situation isn’t going to get better. Nor it will. I realize the situation does not merit any hope for any change at all.

As a man I can only see to it that certain safeguards are met. Said safeguards include me staying behind until the kids turn 18 and then move on elsewhere. I harbour no hope of being part of their lives nor of being a traditional family member because I don’t belong in those worlds as my destiny has clearly made it obvious for me and my fate.

I suppose that I rue many things and that I am bitter for not being able to partake in family related activities since everything surrounding me oozes values that live up to said culture. Life has a sense of sarcasm if anything. But fortunately enough it doesn’t eat me up. As far as I am concerned the lot of my kids is loads better because at least they got to see, live and experience their father for which a judgement has been laid and the judgement is lived up to and hence, they can see who I was and what I was or am etc. Whereas my own luck did not afford me that, so my kids are luckier than I am.

Holding onto hope in this sort of matters is of no help. Sooner or later the bonds of families break and the whole process begins all over again. Life just makes it agonizing in many ways. We hold on to some precious memories and wish wholeheartedly for everything to get back the way it was, for some.

We regret we were different and I am no different in that respect, I do regret many of my actions but in this world there is no turning the hands of times.

 

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