In honor of my father on the day for honoring fathers
It's on this day for honoring fathers I have to confess I feel mixed emotions. The truth is, I don't truly know my father, and after what he did to my mother, I don't want to know him and neither does she. And I won't mince words as to why. I was born of my mother being raped. However, in that my mother chose not to curse me for the sins of my father and decided I should be allowed to be brought into this world anyway. I couldn't be more grateful, as I eventually met the man who I now call Father with pride, and while we may not share blood, I don't need a drop between us to consider him my true Father. Granted, it wasn't an easy road to that end. My mother had been married twice before. Her first husband I share nothing by a name with, one of the few things I got from that worthless whoremonger deadbeat that I'm proud of. Her second husband was not much of an improvement and after being twice burned, she was quite reluctant to get married again, d