These Letter to My Absent Dad Contributions Tugged at our Heartstrings
Last week we called out to #ENTHUSE-iasts near and far with Absent Fathers to share their most intimate thoughts and words in time for Father’s Day. True to your titles, you guys pulled through with some powerful responses. In case you missed it, Letter To My Absent Dad is an amalgamation of thoughts and experiences for those who have lost their fathers through death, estrangement or due to broken homes.
Here are a few stats:
- 83% of the participants felt Emotional Absence while 17% experienced Physical Absence of their fathers.
- 66 % lost their Fathers, whereas there was a tie between those who cut communication and those that don’t know their dads at 16% each.
- 100% believed their lives would have been different if their fathers were in the picture.
- Of all the participants, only one was female.
Check out our favourite snips of these powerful thoughts shared out loud. Thank you to all the #ENTHUSE-iasts who shared these with us. We hope it lightens the load and starts conversations that necessitate more light and life to you and yours.
Dear Dad, you left me when I really needed you most. A boy’s teen years without the guidance of his father are, to say the least, a series of trials and errors. Mom did her best but there are only things that you would know and know how to deal with.
Ten years. I’ve been lost in this world without you dad. I try to be like you from the picture I have of you that I piece from memories and tales. I am severely underprepared to be a man and I have not had the best of teachers from people around. Everyone is struggling to be the man that you were and you are at the pinnacle, you epitomize fatherhood for me. Because you are not here, I am so lost. It is difficult to tame the jungle of responsibility and all I wish for is some beacon, some guiding star. I look up to the heavens where you are supposed to be. Nothing falls down but my tears. In my heart where hope is supposed to be, there is a hollow pit. A cold breeze blows through and chars the fresh wounds opened by the realization that I am alone. I try to light a fire to comfort myself, I try to celebrate victories and assert myself as the man but your arm is not around me, the loneliness is like the night air, it creeps in and settles in my very soul. It sends chills into every part of my body. The dance of the flames does not warm me, it scares the life out of me. Can I run away from the sanctuary I have built myself? I greeted November with an unnatural mix of happiness and sadness. Happy because it is my birthday month coupled with sadness because heaven needed a hero in this month about a decade ago. The loss is renewed every year.
Maybe I am a great man, I am not sure. I am certain, undoubtedly, that I could have been a greater man with your guidance. In my mind, nothing can replace you and the world is a sad place without your presence. I try to live and to love, balance work with pleasure and responsibility and also to define my world as each day draws me further away from parental comfort. I am so sad because I fail a lot, there is no one to hold my hand because everywhere in this deep chasm, echoes of criticisms are so loud and deafening. I fail, it knocks me down utterly. I lack a lot in my arsenal and yet expected to keep the demons at bay. I feel so inadequate despite everything. I am still your son, I wish I were more like you in some things. That is the only outlet I have when this world is crashing around me. So much is not right. Family, friends disintegrating and in all that wahala, I play a pivotal role it seems. The indifferent fingers, of acquaintances, turned aliens, points at me with accusations that carry no shred of truth in them but all the weight of conviction against me. I cannot turn away. I have failed where I should have succeeded it seems, how do I recover from that?
Why did you have to go?
Why am I so unprepared for this world you were so comfortable in?
A lot of questions need just a few answers.
So you were never around, would you tell me what’s that about?
You had some issues with mom,
What’s that got to do with your son?
I just don’t understand how she fell for that kinda man,
You made a life and you ran for your life as fast as you could,
Left behind an innocent boy,
He could have been your own pride and joy,
Man, his character is destroyed by a man that he’s never known,
By a man that should have been there to pick him up when he took a fall,
To go outside and go kick a ball,
But, instead, I got kicked to a wall.
Mommy picked me from the fall until heaven gave her a call.
Surprised you weren’t there to console.
I just want to say, Mr Marcellus, I know it wasn’t your fault that you choose to die to leave me and your other children, but if you can see this letter and if you have been watching us you know that I, your first son still keep your name alive. I still want your name and spirit to live on even though you have passed. So what am asking you is to do what life couldn’t allow you to do…protect us from that side and please say hello to our mom.
“He messed up and I am proof”
What is the importance of fathers in a girls life? Does the lack of one therefore drastically change the course of your life? I’m not talking about monetary dependence, I mean everything else but that. When I was growing up you adored me so much that you named your car after me. Yes, you had a little white Ford and it was called Ford Lisa. Even went and got it engraved, personalised number plate, the works. And in turn that made me feel like a princess. I excelled in all spheres of my life, I was never afraid. Because no matter what, that plate reminded me that you were my superhero.
Well, your life eventually took a different course and you went where the wave took you. It seemed as if when you divorced our mother, you divorced my sister and me too. So, what then happened to the little burning sphinx? She kind of wilted. Feelings associated with wilting included lack of confidence, doubtfulness, mistrust of the world, validation-seeking, self-discrimination. It felt like I would never be enough. The worst for me is constantly seeking validation from male figures in my spheres. If its relationships-every action is associated with the questions,
“Are you going to up and leave?”
I have been without a male figure for so long that even relationships with uncles, your brothers, feel strange. I still believe there is some unseen magic about girls whose fathers assured them that they are princesses no matter what. I’m constantly chasing that magic like rainbows.
You had that chance, you still do… I still hope and pray. The few times I see you every year. I still wish. Sometimes I am aloof because for fear of carrying hope around me, lest you shatter it again.
But I will forever carry your name-proudly because fathers have dreams too, right?