One of the things my mom and I fought about was her refusal to give me my father’s name. He’s never been a part of my life and while I know the backstory as to why he isn’t, I’m going to keep that to myself for now. I don’t understand why she never wanted to tell me his name.
I remember asking her why I didn’t have a father when I was very young and she simply stated that some families don’t have one. That explanation never satisfied me and as much as I bugged her about it, she refused to budge. When I was younger, I did want to find and meet him, if only to put a face on the other half of my family tree. As I’ve grown older, it’s become less about meeting him and more about shedding any kind of light on that dark half of my family tree.
I have a feeling there is more to the story than my mom ever told me, but now the chance to uncover that is all but gone. I’ve done the DNA test for Ancestry and other sites, but I have yet to find a close relative on his side. I’m guessing he would be in his mid to late seventies now, maybe a bit older, so the chance that he’s alive grows dimmer with every day that passes.
I wish she would have just given me a name or at least the real reason why she never wanted to tell me.