Meeting My Dad

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Since I was born, my mom has been there for me taking care of me when I’m sick and teaching me pretty much all I know. But while growing up, I reached a point where I started realizing that every kid in my school had a “mommy” and a “daddy” and I didn’t. I never really noticed that because my uncles and my grandpa were always around me, but when I started school I realized I didn’t have anybody to call “Dad”. I was five years old when I started noticing this entire dilemma and because of my age I started asking a numerous quantity of questions to my mom, questions that were hard to talk about for her and complicated to explain to a clumsy and immature five year old girl. Obviously I didn’t understand everything my mom told me even though I tried. My life went on without my father and he called once or twice just to promise stuff that he never did. My mom never dared to talk bad about him, she always said that the image that I have of my dad will always be affected with his actions and not with what she thinks about him. After those few calls I never heard from him again. I was ten years old when the chance of meeting him for the first time appeared out of nowhere. “Why?” I asked myself multiple times and “Why is this happening to me when I finally got the idea that it’s only me and my mom?” I’m not going to lie, I was really afraid that after meeting that stranger I would feel like I needed him. The day of meeting him came abruptly, I can’t describe how nervous I was, and being in a house that wasn’t mine didn’t help. We were at my uncle’s uncomfortable and freezing cold house and the environment felt tense, and that made me feel even more insecure and frightened since I wasn’t in my protective cocoon, my house. The hours went by, and the moment of meeting him came like lightning and next thing I know I had an average height man, in his 30’s standing in front of me. Emotions raising and legs shaking I couldn’t believe it, I looked just...
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