As I hang up the phone, my mind races.  It’s been 16 years, and I’m just now meeting you?  Where have you been?  Why now?!  Recently, I discovered my father is still in existence  from anv out of the blue call I received after school.  I had so many questions, but I wasn’t bold enough to ask a complete stranger.  We set up a date to meet.  With me living in Lake St. Louis and him living in Florissant, we made a decision to meet somewhere in between.  We came to the conclusion to meet at the St. Louis Mills. My heart racing, my mind with thousands of thoughts like what does he look like, is he cool, do we look similar, I drove to the Mills.  Once I pulled into the parking lot of Children’s Place, I received a phone call.  (I picked up the phone)

“ That’s you in white car? “ my dad says.  I quickly answer “yes”, and he instantly pulls up to the side of me.  He motions for me to get into his car, and due to his tinted windows, all I saw was a darker figure motioning me into the car.  I slowly get out of the car, open his door, and sit in the passenger seat.  I look over and get my first glance of my dad.  Instantly I’m in shock and felt instant disappointment.  He smiles at me with all golds in his mouth smelling of marijuana. Smelling as bad as a skunk.  “I miss ya boy!  How you been? “  I quickly answer fine, and I become very short worded and blunt with him.  Once he realizes that, he just offers me to see my younger sister and step mom, I agreed, and we proceeded to Florissant. Taking glances at my father on the silent way there, I again have many questions pop into my head like, “ Where were you when I was a kid?   Where’d you go?  What happened between you and my mom? “  Those glances at my father had me at a stand still.  My father looked beaten up, scars on his face, and an extremely “ghetto” way of talking. This isn’t how I picture my father!  Makes me honestly question, if I ask him what’s on my mind, will I get the truth or will he fill my head with pre fabricated stories?  So I work up the courage to ask a complete stranger where were you when I was growing up and why now do you decide to come back into my life?”   He instantly stares at me and I brace myself either to get yelled at or pistol whipped, because honestly, I didn’t feel safe with my father.  I didn’t feel comfortable calling him my father. Once he stares for another 1 or 2 minutes, he responds “I had other things to do and I couldn’t be there for you.  I’m sorry.”   Waiting patiently for him to explain why he couldn’t be there and then I get nothing!   Really, all he had to say was “I had other things to do.“  He had three children with my mother, and he had other things to tend to.  I was so disappointed I wanted to jump out of the car not wanting to be with my father at all.  It was honestly heart breaking to know that’s why he missed so much of my life and also my siblings lives.  I felt ashamed and also felt as if I were a mistake.  I didn’t know how to take it. The silence was killing me.  Is that all he really had to say or is there something going on?   Why couldn’t he just explain 16 years of my life.  It isn’t like he just missed one of my football games; he missed my whole life.  Without my father for so long growing up, I had questions, “is he big like me mom,”  “does he like sports,”  “when could we see him?”   These memories of me at a younger age jogged my mind about how I was always asking about him, and I couldn’t shake those thoughts until we pulled up to the house.  We got out of the car and walked into the house.  The house was dark, and he cut on the lights.  It looked as if they just moved in and boxes were everywhere.   The only thing that was set up was the TV and a couch.   He went to the back to wake everyone up, and I sat on the couch to watch TV.   I sat on something wrapped in a sock.  I grabbed and distinguished the figure, and it was a gun inside of a sock.  I was appalled and instantly drew back into what I was just holding.   I instantly put it on the table and changed the channel on the TV.  He comes around the corner with a baby named Jessica.  Jessica was 2 years old and seemed to be a happy baby.   She loved ice cream.  My step mother that I only knew as CeCe, also came around the corner, greeting me with a hug, telling me she is happy to meet me, and begins to cry.  I ask her,  “why are you crying?”   She replies, “it’s crazy how much you look like your father and sad he wasn’t given the ability to meet you.” She runs back to her room as fast as a dog to calm down.  I instantly stare at my father with baby Jessica in my hands with disappointment.  “You said you had other things going on.  What did you tell her?“ She comes around the corner hearing the statement I made. He freezes and is dumbfounded by my question.  I didn’t know how to feel about it.  He instantly grabs the gun off the table and storms out the door.  I didn’t know my father but that says a lot about him.   That night his actions proved what kind of man he was, a man I never wanted to be.  Something I thought to be a positive experience in my life became the largest disappointment in my life, like a young child not getting what he wanted on Christmas. My step mom took me back to my car at the Mills Mall, and I drove home a child somewhat proud to not know my father.