The Caesar has No Father, and No Son.

When I was a child I sought the love and companion ship of my father daily. To me he was someone to look up to and value if not emulate. My birth was planned, my parents were married, and for the first 15 years of my life he was there. Yet in so many ways he was not. I noticed as my sister was born (four years after my birth), that the older we got the less involve and/or capable he was at dealing with us. I'd liken my father to more of a pet lover, unable to deal with children once they had developed mentally. Unable to relate once we questioned the world or him even in the simplest things of life. So from the very moment I could remember anything, I don't remember any kind of relationship with him. And unfortunately the older I got, the less involved with my life he became. As I'm sure my siblings will tell the same.

Ya know, my father's father pasted away when he was only 16. From what I'm told he was a very hard man. I suppose the main reason for this is that the man had 12 children. I still wonder to this day what kind of effect it must have had on him. At times I even pity him for it. I can't imagine what it must have been like to watch your father die slowly from a tumor at 16. It's funny how lives echo in time. A man I have never met and will never know has effected my life so greatly.
My father was like a cold harsh day, everyday. As children me, my brother, and my sister coveted any moment of sunshine he gave us though they were very few.
Being the middle child left me introverted. I read books a lot, listen to music, and wrote things down. WoW, now that I think of it I've been writing for my own personal pleasure since I was about 8 or 9 years old. Writing has always been comforting to me, and a way to meditate on my thoughts. I was different, and for a long time I didn't see that in a positive light. Maybe if I'd been into sports more, or other "usual things" for boys me and my father could've bonded more. We were just too different. I've noticed this even when relating to my brother. As I progressed into my teenage years my parents divorced and so as they separated my ties with my father separated as well to become more worse than they had ever been.
And his continued rejection of me on into my 20's turned my sorrow to a hate of some kind. We live in the same town, sometimes just around the corner, but I always had to go to him. As the 31 year old man I am today, I can only think of one time that my father has been to any home I have ever owned, rented, or lived in. For all my accomplishments, I only wish I could have shared them with him, instead of someone else father. Being that most of my peers are men at least 11 years older than me, and for the most part always have been.

And now in this day, isn't it ironic that I find myself in the same place with my very own son? Wishing. As a child I wanted to be closer to my father, and as a father, I wish I was closer to my own son who is not 13 years of age. What have I missed in 13 years of trying to make that bond? Do I lack this skill because of a lack of relationship with my own father, and his lack with his? The story of how he came to be is so much unlike mine, and could also play a role. As of late especially since his lack of involvement in my life has been used as a weapon by his mother in ways that are entirely frustrating. It's been made quite clear to me in so many conversations that I am not needed, other than child support. With people, things are so complicated. So in a life so full of accomplishment and success, I tend to sit sad on a self made throne of ambition. Because the two people I want so badly to share it with have better things to do.

I've already said too much......... this is how I'm feeling today.

"We are all just children really, trying to find our way." -Anthony Elrod-