Missing

My father died nearly two and a half decades ago. The subsequent emotional challenges were confusing.

My relationship with him is something that I will write in-depth about at some point.

After his death, I went into a tailspin. Depression is something I've managed since adolescence. This time, life events wholly uprooted me. I was lost for a while.

I recovered. But, when fathers are missing from the family, even one as fucked up as mine, it scars us.

My mother, like many others, did the best she could raising us. But, moms are not dads.

Healing manifests in different ways, if we are open to it. And is required for healthy living moving forward.

This post came to mind after reflecting on the absence of our fathers.

When they are missing, a part of us is as well.

#missingfathers #family #raisingfamily