 |
| My dad and I in Hawaii |
So last week I reunited with my father after 14 years. It was the 4th time I've seen him in my whole 26.5 years of existence and now I've probably spent a total of 3 months with him. Yea, it's been that kind of relationship. Here's a bit of my context:
When my sister was 4 years old (circa 1984), my wild hippie mom (also single and broke) decided to leave Toronto and go live on the beach in Hawaii for a year. She did not work while she was there and instead opted to eat fruit from the trees, climb volcanoes for berries with my sister on her back and swim in the ocean with the sharks, so the story goes. One day she met my dad: a super buff dude, and a few years younger than her, who was maintaining fields of marijuana crops in the valleys of Waipio. He took her and my sis into his sheet metal tree-house and out of love he hiked many miles for her to the nearest town where he could buy supplies and food so my sister had enough to eat. At some point during this relationship I was conceived.
When my sister was 4 years old (circa 1984), my wild hippie mom (also single and broke) decided to leave Toronto and go live on the beach in Hawaii for a year. She did not work while she was there and instead opted to eat fruit from the trees, climb volcanoes for berries with my sister on her back and swim in the ocean with the sharks, so the story goes. One day she met my dad: a super buff dude, and a few years younger than her, who was maintaining fields of marijuana crops in the valleys of Waipio. He took her and my sis into his sheet metal tree-house and out of love he hiked many miles for her to the nearest town where he could buy supplies and food so my sister had enough to eat. At some point during this relationship I was conceived.
The next point of the story is told differently by each of my parents and is a prime example of the great saying, "There are 3 sides to every story. Yours, mine and the truth." Of course in this case it's my dad's side, my mom's side and the truth. According to my mom, being the independent, strong woman that she is, she decided she didn't need a man and was going to raise her 2 girls on her own, so she left Hawaii for Toronto to do just that and never asked my dad for a penny. According to my dad (already the father of one child he wasn't around), he knew that he could not provide my mom with what she wanted, which was for them to get married and have a family so he told her it was best she stay away. Who knows? It doesn't matter.
Anyway, I did end up being born in Toronto, in the basement of a house on Huron St. just north of Dundas St., with a few midwives and my big sister running around and peeping in as my mom simply whimpered during the drug-free delivery. Not long after, my father got the honour of meeting his hapa (half-Japanese) daughter in Hawaii when I was a wee 5 months old (see photo above). He then saw me again when I was 18 months old on Long Island and then for the 3rd time when I was 12 years old in Colorado, where he is living now. The last and 4th trip brings us to the present day and I will share some reflections from that trip next time. I have no anger or resentment towards him, nor do I feel any lack for anything. That's just the way it was. The end.
@LoveKaruna (Twitter)
No comments:
Post a Comment