Let me start off this post with a belated Happy Father’s Day to all the wonderful father’s I know out there. From my friends, to my own Father to my boyfriend.
A Father is his son’s first hero and his daughter’s first love.
That being said, this Father’s Day was a bittersweet anniversary for Noodle and I. One year ago on Father’s Day was the last time she heard from her father, Tim. At this point I don’t even want to call him a father but I hate that stupid term “sperm donor”. Anyway, last year at this time, he had already up and moved to Colorado after giving us only 3 days notice. He had promised to call Noodle, promised her he’d be back in a couple of weeks, and promised me he was going for work and would send money as soon as he good. One year ago on Father’s Day, he called for the last time and got mad that Noodle didn’t want to talk on the phone with him, since she was busy playing with about 15 children at a barbecue.
We never heard from him again. Through a little digging on the internet, we found out what town he’s living in, that he’s unemployed and living off of his new girlfriend (what a surprise) and that he spends his time in the bottom of a bottle. Tim broke my daughters heart as he broke each and every promise he ever made her. While he was off starting another life for the 4th time, I was here dealing with a 4 year old who was facing the fact that her own father doesn’t love her. While he was at the bar with his new girlfriend, I was rocking my child to sleep who had spent hours crying for her father. While he was off doing what he wanted, I fed a brand new hatred for the man.
It’s been one year. I knew he wouldn’t come back, hell, even his own mother has admitted that. It’s been one year, and the hatred has just grown. However I’ve become more confident. Slowly my little girl stopped asking for her Dad, and slowly I realized I could do this on my own. Slowly she got over losing him and slowly I got stronger. A lot can change over a year, and my family is proof of it. The anger I have against him has fueled me into making myself a better mom. The burning anger at the memories of my daughter crying for her father, pushed me to spend a lot of time with her and realize I’d rather be with her than anything else.
It’s been one year since Noodle’s dad willingly left, and it’s given me one year to strengthen my family and my relationship with my daughter. It’s been one year and she’s okay and I’m okay. It’s been one year, and I can swear to god… if he ever comes near my daughter again I’ll rip his head off. I will not let him do what he did to his son and pop in and out of her life. We’re better off with out someone who chooses drugs and drinking over his kids. I’m glad he’s gone.
Happy Father’s Day (belated). More importantly, Happy One Year Anniversary to Noodle and I. Here’s to many more years!