Sorry for those of you who looked at my Ft. Worth blog and weren't able to see the pictures. I don't know why that happens sometimes. Maybe I should look into a new service for blogging. I hear there are many...
I did it again... it was stupid, but I did it; I looked at Wayne Teekel's Facebook page. For those of you not in-the-know, Wayne is my biological father. Or, as I sometimes like to call him, the contributor of my second X chromosome. I have never met the man. I only first found out about him when I was 37. But I'm about to be 44 this November so that's SEVEN years I've known about him... he's known that I know about him... and still he has extended zero effort to meet me. We had one Facebook interchange: it ended with him saying, "We should have lunch" and me saying said, "Great, here's my phone number"... and the metaphorical line went dead there. Seven freaking years ago.
One of my sisters through him has gone through some major stuff in her life over the past several years. She is smart, kind, gentle, beautiful and a wonderful mom to her two girls. And I'm grateful to know her. But Pops?? He took no interest in offering her any caring or support. Or... fatherly love.
Doesn't diminish her worth. Just like his inattention doesn't diminish my worth. It just hurts like hell.
But here's the best part. There is another sister... who is apparently daddy's little girl. They hang out all the time... his FB profile picture is him hugging her... you get it. I've communicated with sister number two several times but have never met her, either. What is the problem, here???
This hurts my feelings enormously! Not constantly or every day but, when I see photos and Facebook posts, it really twists the knife I carry around in my heart.
(Nicole, why do you say you carry a knife in your heart? Don't give in to that! Pull it out, have victory over the hurt and let it make you stronger!)
Bullshit. That is bullshit. I am hurt wounded and disjointed. My identity as a human got fucked with. I don't expect him to "fix" any of that. But, damn it, he could extend a hand toward me, show a milli-drop of interest in my existence.
WHYYY won't he?? I'm told all the time, "That's just how he is"... or, my mom's favorite line, "Nicole, he's just an asshole." But none of that helps ME.
It really hurts, especially at this moment. And, yes, though I seldom actually cry, I am doing just that right now. My face is leaking. Nice.
Thanks for listening. My invisible group of friends. LOL
