When i was growing up my dad or the man I thought was my dad worked away alot. I woke up one night when I was little and heard my mum in bed having sex with someone. I knew my dad was working away . To this day I can still remember the feeling of fear panic and terror hearing what was happening.
When I woke for school next morning this man was folding up blankets on the sofa . He was My mums friend and he had stayed over. Only I know he didn't.
I can't explain how or why but it planted this seed of doubt in my mind. When I reached my teen years my older brothers who had moved out and were adults told me this friend was likely in fact my father. My dad who worked away was a married man leading a double life with my mum and had a vasectomy before I was born. He knew I wasn't his but played the role of 'dad' when was able.
Wind forward many years and both of these men disappeared from my life without so much of a backwards glance. And I began looking for them to establish paternity. Asking my mum just resulted in lies , bullshit and more questions that it answered.
I tracked down both and it turned out actually neither was My father. The search went on and 2 more men entered the frame. One was my brothers boss and another was my mums old employer. Turns out it was him who was mu dad. He died when I was a child seemingly not knowing I exited. (I did dna testing with his other children so no issue with paternity )
Essentially 4 men in the frame. I was given the first name of one last name of another. Middle names of a third. 3 of the ones who knew about me. 1 knew ibcouldnt he his. The other 2 thought I probably was but did nothing to find out. Then abandoned me and pissed off. It took me looking for them.
Well the last one of those men died today. He's the one I heard with my mum in the night.
My memories are of a teddy and certain piece of jewellery he brought me. My mum would burn incense when he had been round to hide the smell of his aftershave. He picked me up from school once. I can picture him standing against his car smiling at me. The other 2 memories are hearing him that night and seeing him all over my mum through a slightly open door.
But he's died today.
I feel sad. Sad for that inner child. That little girl.
I also hope he died alone. Alone the way he left me. Alone and I felt abandoned. I have all my life. I have an anxious attachment style. I ended up in an abusive marriage. My husband would punch and beat me and say my dad never f*ing wanted me .
He left me alone in life. Now he's left me in death. They all have now. All of those men.
He's the last one. It's opened every wound. And horrible thoughts. Nasty thoughts.
Someone handhold x