With eyes full of clarity, I am capable of changing the relationships in my life by adjusting my point of view.
I call my father a sperm donor. He gave me life but never showed up in my life.
My friends at school never knew I had a father because they never saw him. He missed all of the concerts and sports games. For the majority of my life, we didn’t talk. He didn’t acknowledge me—no birthday calls. I had no idea where my dad lived. Some days I was not sure he was still alive.
In high school, my dad limped back into my life. I could stop by his apartment and visit him when I wanted to. If I called him, he would pick up the phone. Things were changing between us.
Blindingly bright, his true colors revealed themselves the night before my high school graduation when I called to make sure he was coming. He said he couldn’t attend because he had to drive a friend to the airport. Cabs exist. His friend could have used one. I was angry, sad, and most of all, hurt.