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Deadbeat Dad

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I grew up without knowing my father. He’s been in and out of my life, but I never really knew him. I don’t know why he doesn’t want to be apart of my life, I don’t know why he has two names, I don’t even know if he really loves me. He’s just a stranger that I call “dad.” Living without a father is what made me who I am today: Insecure.


My dad was there when my mom was pregnant with me. He was there through it all, from the first trimester to birth. He was there for my birthdays up until I was 10, then he left. I don’t know why my parents split up, but it was hard on me. My sister and I would go to his house every other weekend for two days, then we would return home to see our mom. I was very happy that we got to see our dad again. After a month of going back and forth from house to house, he stopped contacting us; he had left again.


He was gone for about two years (with the occasional holiday/birthday texts) before he started talking to us again. I was about 13 when he took us out to eat one night. It was a great surprise to see a little two year old boy sitting in the back of the car; it was our brother. After that night, we fell back into regular schedule. Every other weekend we’d meet at Coat’s gas station and we’d stay the night at our dad’s for two days before returning home. A couple months of my dad being back in my life, his girlfriend got pregnant with my now four year old sister.


My baby sister isn’t even two years old when my dad leaves his girlfriend and our lives for a third time. My blood sister and I lose full contact with our half-siblings for a year. My dad comes back to the state for one final visit in Redwing. We go because our siblings were going to be there. My mom, the mother of my half-siblings, my dad and his girlfriend, and my siblings and I all went to the park. I played with my siblings while the adults talked. My mom and the mother of my half-siblings exchanged numbers, so we could stay in contact. We said our goodbyes after an hour or so, and my dad left.


Now, I’m 15 years old and my dad still hasn’t contacted us. He fled the state so he doesn’t have to deal with child support and arrest. He’s living in Oklahoma, but my brother said he’s moving back up to Minnesota in two years. My dad had his three chances to be a father and he failed. My mother has been my mom and dad. I’m thankful for what she made me today: independant.






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