Daddy are you there? Part 01 - The present father but missing dad

“Any man can be a father, but it takes a special person to be a dad”. One of my high school teachers once said, it takes more than just being a sperm donor to be a father (referred to as dad in this article), one has to work for that title… you don’t just automatically get it. Growing up without a father figure or a dad is such a prominent thing in our society because the effects of that gap are floating in the atmosphere to be felt and witnessed by every one of us. The effects that with choice can, to some extent, be eliminated throughout future generations. These holes, people did not choose but were intentionally or unintentionally created for them by the people who brought them to this earth, and these are the people we call our fathers. For the purpose of these articles, the word father is differentiated from the term dad to emphasize the difference between procreating a human being and being there for this human being as they mature into something great. Some fathers are not there at all to see their children grow while others are there but are not there to play the daddy role, either way the question “daddy are you there?” haunts the child. It is important though to note that for the former, death might be what got in the way but the effects are still similar to those of a father who decided to hit the road.

I grew up in a broken home with both parents, for a chunk of my life that is, meaning that all my life there was always a father figure. This is a blessing that I learned to appreciate in the last moments of my high school as I came to realise that for some, they never had the privilege of meeting their fathers. I felt horrible for growing up feeling like I did not have a dad to help me navigate my way from being a lad into a man. Academically I had and still have full support from both my parents. At the realisation of my privilege, I felt unappreciative and therefore decided that my pain was nothing compared to those haunted by the lack of knowing their fathers. After all, that is a “normal” human response to emotional pain; disregard your pain as being nothing compared to the next person’s and therefore you must grow tough skin. There is nothing wrong with growing strong amidst your problems, that’s how it should be. But not allowing ourselves to acknowledge, feel and deal with our pain is the root of most social issues faced today. There is this norm of creating an emotional-pain scale to decide who deserves to experience and feel the darker side of emotions. The difference in our characters as human beings, our individuality, disregarded by us and those around us. Forgetting the fact that there will always be someone with more &/or deeper issues than yours but their issues don’t take yours away – no matter how more obvious that person’s issues are, yours will still be there staring at you until you confront them.

It is aching to hear and see the gap being left by the fathers missing in their children’s lives. It is just as painful to sit in the same room as your father yet every time you look at him the question, “daddy are you there? Will I ever get to meet you?” keeps visiting your consciousness. The issue of a missing dad extends itself over a wide spectrum. All of these fathers are there and the household has a father figure, but a dad is either partially or completely missing. The child occasionally or never gets to taste the fruit of having a dad yet the tree is right there in front of them. The nurturing is not part of the relationship or, if lucky, it keeps showing around the corner with no assurance of how long it will stay. The mother is awarded with the opportunity of playing a scene she never expected and still doesn’t understand why she is both a nurturing mom & dad to their offspring. “Does he not hear his cubs’ cry for guidance? What’s going to happen to my babies if something happens to me?” are some of the questions that refuse to leave her mind because even when he is made aware, it’s like no word has been uttered. Now and again, we get to find those who eventually see their young ones’ pain and change or at least something along the way wakens that nurturing.

Who we become is influenced by how we experienced life as we travel through it. My father never had a dad, he knew his late father for the early years of his life but to my knowledge he was never his dad. He got the treat of having a dad for a short while when his late grandfather took him in. He otherwise had to navigate his way into adulthood without any knowledge of what growing up in a home with nurturing parents is like or being raised by parents for that matter. His mother’s soul left its flesh while they still needed it more than anything, with the youngest still a baby. So how can I blame him for not knowing how to play his role? How can I be this unreasonable? You see during my high school years I got the pleasure of being taught by some of the greatest people I have ever met, people who not only focused on academics but understood the type of crowd they were trusted with. Occasionally we would get life lessons instead of focusing on academics, this happened more often in matric. One of these lessons is that no matter your past, as a person you always have a choice. A choice to be a better person, to use your experiences to make others’ a better one -- to break whatever chain of bad habit that has been hovering over your family for generations. Therefore, one has to take responsibility for their actions instead of hanging them over the next person’s shoulders. Sure, your past influenced you but it is your choice how you want to live your life and how many lives you want to groom.

I do appreciate my father for being present, but this year for the first time I didn’t miss the opportunity to let him know how his absence as a dad almost broke me. My plea was that he changes for my sisters, because what I was experiencing they without any doubt were also experiencing; I know this because the middle child awarded me the opportunity to read some of her diary entries during one of our DMCs. I don’t know if this made things different, but I played my part and made him aware. For my side, I may have been harsh to him by saying it is too late for him to try for me but I still expected to see a difference. It doesn’t matter much though because as much as I didn’t have my dad growing up, I had the one dad I could not and still can’t see yet always there. I always say that I believe in God because of my life, as cliché as that sounds, it is the truth. Even though I still trip and at times fall, somehow, I always find the knowledge and wisdom I need from other people, books, talks & conversations, and the Bible to help me get up. All these are part of this life orchestrated by my Maker, by the One from whom my strength comes from; to such an extent that even at my weakest moments I know that if I talk to Him daily I will survive the storm. For most of my life “…I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But He said to me, ‘my Grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong”. 2 Corinthians 12: 8-10

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