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A Can of Worms and A Deadbeat Parent

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A nippy evening at the Tribeka. It cuts a place forlorn for me [because my first laptop was stolen here] a few years away. I am constantly sipping the intoxication of the old because I am letting off steam. Drinks and more drinks. I wanna drink the night away. Probably wish my sorrows away. I’d drown my sorrows tonight ‘cause YOLO. But I am dead from the inside. A majestic frame from the outside but a small flicker of hope survives in my arteries. Hopeless much. I am a bowl of unrealized dreams like those of a flower plumed and withered all within a turn of a clock.

Alone, desolate and a couple hundred thoughts flashing past my mind I sit. Razing thoughts wrestle one another on my mind.  It’s been like thirty minutes into the hour and emptiness is threatening to weigh me down.

A night of fun after a lazy Sunday siesta is the precursor of it all. All of it.  The sequel – a girl gowned in riveting delight. In a couple of days, she will be turning two.  And I remember her first yawn, and clench. Poor little thing. I recall her first cry; a cry that pierced my heart with an allure of joy. I remember holding her briefly in my arms. A little creature she was, with eyes closed in deep sanctitude.  I remember inscribing her names in the notification. And the nurses wishing us the best of luck in raising her. I remember waving her goodbye ‘cause her parents were “within reach” and I was not in good standing with them. I remember checking on her a few times thereafter against the wishes of her parents.

Back then, I was a hopeless romantic full of love without an astute plan. The idea of making someone’s daughter go hungry was not compelling. I couldn’t fend for oneself then. I’d sleep hungry sometimes cause life for me, son, ain’t been no crystal stair. Boards all torn up. You would imagine I am getting aplomb with self-validation but then, a dark cloud of uncertainty hang over my shoulder. While her parents were infuriated, my mama would have thrown a mad fit my way. Eventually, I would shamelessly let her go to her parents as I sought to get my act together.

So I started looking for gigs and projects. I worked with a few referrals as I needed to stay afloat. I paid rent and a few utilities as I pitched my portfolio to prospective clients. I bolstered my job hunting efforts. With a stroke of luck, I landed a job that could afford me some small savings at the close of the month. Just when I was ready to chip in a few dollars towards my daughter's upkeep, she turned off her telephone, deleted her Facebook account and an avalanche of things swamped her social sphere. Estranged much.

Most recently I came across a text from her. Good Lord knows I don’t wanna be deadbeat anymore and so I knew it was the most opportune of moments to turn things around. So we had some small chat that went a tard inexplicable.  She went all berserk on me. She poured the agony of a single mama trying to raise a kid on her own. I told her I needed to chip in towards our daughter’s upkeep but she wouldn’t hear any of it. I tend to imagine life must have unfolded strange sheets for her. Disenchanted much.

Her response was most debilitating. “Money ain’t no problem nowadays. I don’t want anything from you.” She summed her exasperation like "I don’t wanna hear anything from you, ever."
I am certain she’s nursed her wounds. Wounds inflicted by an absentee father.
I wanna be a part and parcel of my daughter’s upbringing. Real bad. For now, she won’t let me be.

**********
Note to my daughter
Every time I listen to Miranda Cosgrave’s About You Know, I hold the tears back. You were hardly a day old when I last saw you. 

You are turning two soon and you probably have uttered the words “mama” and “cucu”.  Papa hardly ever. I have no doubt you have the strongest mama one can ever wish for. Probably you have stopped suckling. Does your being uncomfortable sometimes degenerate into a deafening crescendo? I’d love to hear you say “papa” – even if the syllables are clattered all over.

I’d love to see you grow into a fine lass.
Mama won’t allow us to meet any soon. But someday, somehow, anyhow our paths will meet and I’ll give you a stupendous fatherly hug.
**********
It’s midnight already and I stagger out of the tavern like an accursed lot. My daughter must by riled by what I have become. I pick my nose without a care in the middle of an intersection. Cars are honking at me. But I walk on. I must get home, get a few hours of sleep before the fall of day. I need stay away from danger. Danger really lurks in the dark.

Disclaimer: A story well told.

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