My Real Father
"Never forget the past…because it may haunt you forever. Regret all the bad things…cherish the good things. Look ahead always…but don't let the bad things from the past get in your mind." As a young child, there were so many incidents in my life that made me become the person I am today. There were rough times as well as good times. If I were to tell you all of them, I would remember half of them. I think some of my incidents really had some impact, and some were just simple ways of life. To tell you the truth, the incident that had the most impact on me has to be when my real father left me at the age of three. I never knew my father. I mean being a baby, you really have no experience or recognition of somebody else.
My mother got pregnant at eighteen years of age. From what I was told, she knew my real father well enough that she wanted a child from him. As a result, she gave birth to me in April of 1981. She was so happy and glad for having her first child. My mother informed me that in the beginning she and my father lived well and tried their best to raise me. As time passed, my father was always drunk and cared less about anything. If I was sick, he never went out to buy me medicine or took care of me. He would just be drinking and complain about everything.
My mother realized she was tired of him. He wasn’t good for anything. As my mother told me, he’d come from work and get into arguments and sometimes beat up on her. When it came to that point of physical abuse, she had enough of him. One day, he got into a big fight with my mom. He nearly destroyed the apartment where we lived. That night, he went to a bar and got drunk. My mother told him to never come back. Days passed and he never returned. He was spending the nights with his brother. Meanwhile, my mother worked hard to earn money to pay the rent, and to buy me food, clothes and diapers. My father came for his personal belongings and he said had no right to be here or to suffer.
Of course, my mother always knew something suspicious about him. It resulted he had a lover that was pregnant from him. At that moment, my mother literally decided to leave him. My father left, but he visited to see me once a month for like about a year. We soon realized he Moved to Mexico, and since then we haven’t heard a word from him. We never saw him again. My mother heard he got married in Mexico, but she cared less because for her he was just a stranger. She did all the...