(ThyBlackMan.com) I really had no idea of what to write about when thinking about the celebration of Father’s Day. I never knew my father. I was two years old when he was killed in my grandmother’s front yard. I was told, when I was old enough to digest the information that he denied me at birth. There are many things that I could say wrong about my biological father. However, I have come to realize that he played a major role in my existence.
Today, I look back…I never knew that not having him in my life would affect me in so many ways. Yes, I was able to have a father in my life when my mother decided to marry my sibling’s dad. However, I never quite 
connected with him. I am forever thankful for his guidance of being a male figure in my life though. After their divorce, men came, and went in our lives. I was molested at the age of eleven [by one of my mother’s former boyfriends]. That forever changed my relationship with men, and trusting them.
I never will forget when I was twelve years old that God sent an angel my way. As a practicing child psychologist [my angel], he would open his door every Wednesday afternoon, and listen to me talk my young life. I would always exaggerate about wanting a father who was a Texas Ranger. When I first got the chance to see my father in a photo, I felt like I looked just like him. He could have been that ranger; he could have been the father that grew to love me. But, I have accepted today that this was not meant for my life.
Thinking back, I wonder what it would have been like to have known my biological father had he lived. How would we explain to me his reasoning for not signing my birth certificate or acknowledging my existence? Would he tell me to walk away, never call again, and forget him? As I type, I think both of our attitudes would have been too strong for that. I believe that he would have realized his mistake. Though I never knew him, I was still blessed to know my grandparents. I also developed a strong bond with my sister and brother on my father’s side.
I believe that God has been with me through the entire journey. Still to this day, I do not have the opportunity to pick up the phone to call my father, or a male figure that I trust—but him. I thank my heavenly father for keeping me out of harms way. I also want to thank him for allowing me the opportunity to forgive my father. It took a long road to get to that point too.
I will be traveling to Dallas, Texas, this summer, and will be able to check out some more of his pictures that he took in the early seventies. He was a stunner, I tell yah—a very handsome man. As a writer, I hope to be able to channel some of his energy through memories/stories and produce an artistic piece in his honor.
I am grateful that he did do one thing right…he helped create me in 1976.
Happy Father’s Day!
Staff Writer; kYmberly Keeton
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