Father

For some reason the subject of my relationship with my father has come up multiple times in talks with friends over the past couple of weeks. It is funny how hard it is to talk about. In my head, I don't really feel any way about it, but when I have to speak the words, they come out real quick and to the point, not wanting to linger on the subject looking for something else to talk about. I know in my heart of hearts there is immense pain there. I think it's so buried though, that in my head I brush it off, honestly very rarely think about it.

 I was pondering the next time I would cry, like really really cry, I arrived at probably when my wife is having a child and thinking of becoming a father. I think all the emotion will hit me like a ton of bricks and I will really feel why it is so bad to have an absentee dad. Overall, I feel like most of my emotions have crawled way back into my consciousness to the point where I have to really stop and ask myself why I feel happy or sad. Or even if I feel a certain way at some points.

But when people ask, and I tell them the last time I seen my father was Thanksgiving 2009, it's not a big deal to me. I honestly had to remember when the last time I saw him was, what year! And their response is always like 'yikes'. I feel so odd, it obviously means so much to the average person, and now I have to access why I have to dig for those emotions.

I realized I never ever told somebody the whole story about why I was born in the Virgin Islands, why my parents converted to Islam, why I moved around to various places in my life. It was always short answers, 'Oh they had a job there', or something. I told my current roommate a little about it. I honestly just learned/relearned much of the Islamic Party story this summer. One night I read a short book on them. It was crazy realizing the very root of all the Islamic community connections and re-locations  and marriages. It was like my life story was so orchestrated, instead of just being a collection of happenings, there was all of a sudden this underlying, over arching story. It really shook me for a couple of weeks.

Why do I go on this tangent? I made an odd connection, odd understanding of my fathers actions. Things in the party happened so swiftly. It seemed like a good cause at first, Muslims trying to shine a light on the African American community and really have a 'purist' colony to raise righteous generations. And I ask myself, "what would I have done if I was my father?". I personally desire to live out my importances in reality, imagine finding a community of Purists, what joy! And once you put your faith and trust in something, doing things like marrying multiple women per 'requirement' seem justified. I haven't really asked anyone why he was always away from our family though, so I can't theorize what I would have done there. I feel like I really need to just ask him.

What if it turns out it makes sense and I would consider doing the same thing?! Oh, how that would change my view of him. I have always hated the supposed characteristics I have inherited from him, people telling me I look like him. I am starting to feel like such a huge part of my personal development is embedded in at least hearing my father's story from my father's mouth. I told myself like 2 years ago, when I got a car, thus beginning my adult life as I have always thought, I would make sure to organize a meet and greet with my father. Yep, a meet and greet, I gravely do not know that man, and all I hear from my siblings is opinions and  stories, no encouragement to get to know him. I can't use those, I need reality.

Endnote - I think some of the reason it hasn't mattered to me is that I have always considered Abu Bakr my father. I am just realizing how horrible I feel about treating him so unfriendly for my whole childhood. I was in studio working on a model listening to jazz radio, then I heard a Courntey Pine song he used to play back in West Center Street. That sent me on such a trip! My whole childhood I felt pressured to not like Abu. It wasn't the cool thing to do, and y'know, I always wanted to be cool to the older kids. Now, I think I can understand why there wasn't a broad acceptance of him, the older kids knew Daddy in some capacity. When Mommy married Abu Bakr, the only memory I had of Daddy was that he had huge strides and he would squeeze the top of my head sometimes. So Abu was really all I knew in terms of fatherhood. Honestly thinking about it, personality aside, he really pushed me, at least, to be good academically, to have confidence, to always be thinking of a career and to be a defender of what you believe in. I acted like I hated all of these things. I always feel like it is such an act with him. When i visited this past summer I was kind of sad that he was for the most part bed ridden, I didn't get a chance to really just try to have a clear honest relationship with him.