Nothing prepares you for the death of your parent. There’s no handbook on grief, no right or wrong way to mourn. And even so, how do you mourn a parent who never acknowledged you?
The dad I never knew
My father died, and i’m not sure how I’m meant to feel about it all.
You see my mum met my dad when she was 16. He was 27 and separated from his wife, who he already had a daughter with. Not long after they met, mum fell pregnant with me. He left mum before I was born, and she’s had almost no contact with him since then. He met me once when I was about 6-8 months old and then nothing since.
Mum raised me and my siblings on her own. Sure, she had romantic partners, and she was our primary care doing the best she could, like we all do. I’m so proud of her, as i. know it’s not easy being a single mother.
I had a tumultuous childhood filled with both trauma and bliss. It wasn’t until I was a young adult with a couple of kids of my own that I learned I had an older sister. And I admit, sometimes when I was having a bad argument with my younger siblings, I imagined what it would be like to have an older one to turn to.
Surprise Encounter
When I was pregnant with my second child, my mum and I were walking into the mall when she pointed to a cleaner and told me that he was my father.
Walking past him was the only interaction I’d ever had with him, that I could remember. After I saw him, every time I went into the mall, my eyes automatically found him like he was metal, and my eyes were magnets.
We never spoke. He never even looked my way even if I was sitting in the food court and he walked past. It was like he didn’t know who I was. He worked there for over half my life, almost all of my adult life and never initiated contact.
It was a bitter pill to swallow, and left me wondering what I did to elicit that reaction from him.
Was I a tangible reminder of his separation?
Was I something he thought of as a mistake?
Am I not important at all?
My father died yet I feel I’m grieving someone I don’t know
My mum called me the other day to tell me she’d heard my dad had died. Then she asked me if I was OK. I told her I was, and in the moment, I was okay. I didn’t know him. But then my overthinking brain got to work, and I had many conflicting thoughts.
I don’t know if I’m doing this grief thing properly. Do I even have a right to grieve a man I didn’t know? Who didn’t know me?
When Mum called, my first concern was for her. She always used to tell me she thought he was the one who got away. There was a softer tone to her voice whenever he came up in conversation.
She told me the old friend who called and let her know, said my father used to talk about me and mum to him all the time. It makes me wish I could ask him why he couldn’t or wouldn’t acknowledge me.
And then I went onto the funeral parlour’s Facebook page and saw the dedications to him. I also learned I have two younger brothers from his second marriage.
In the comments, I saw his first wife send her condolences to his second wife and I was dumbstruck.
Learning my father’s first wife was so accepting of his second wife but my mum went unacknowledged and ignored, made me angry for her. She was a 16-year-old girl in a scary situation, in love with a man who didn’t love her enough back.
My youngest daughter just turned eighteen. I can’t imagine her being so vulnerable and pregnant now, let alone when she was 16. I was 19 when I first fell pregnant. It’s a terrifying time. It makes me realise how brave my mum was and is. And how cowardly he was.
Then I saw all the names of mutual acquaintances and family friends from his life. People I had spent weekends with and celebrated milestones with. People I called family. It made me realise how small the world is when you grew up in the town you were born in.
It made me wonder if I have interacted with my older sibling or her mother and not even realised it. Did any of these people we were close to know I was his daughter?
And then I started to wonder what was wrong with me.
Why didn’t he want to be in my life?
Why were mum and I excluded from this extended family?
Do my siblings know about me?
Why did he talk to his friends about me but not talk to me?
I was in the mall where he worked at least once a week when I went to the supermarket. I had coffee there with family and friends. I would have been open to a conversation, maybe even a cordial relationship.
Why wasn’t I good enough? And where do I go from here?
