My old man

I haven’t seen my old man in so many years. Looking back, it comes to me that we didn’t see each other more than we did. He was gone for work when I was thirteen, and since that time, we only occasionally talked on the phone. He would visit us about once a year, but he felt like a guest at our house. He was a stranger now since being out for so long does change a person. Back then, I was just a teenager, and not many things mattered to me. I didn’t care. I didn’t have anything to say; whatever parents decided to do was the law, and I could not question or not follow it. We separated for good for seventeen years with no visits, no photos, and just some rare phone calls. It became a new norm, a new life for all of us. Questions about where your father was, were not asked by others because everybody got used to my father being somewhere far away and he’ll never be here with us, so it doesn’t matter anymore.

My old man wasn’t always this old. I remember him as a younger man, full of energy, power, and life lessons. He wasn’t well-educated, but he was street smart. There was so much wisdom in his words that I would learn as time went by. He was right on so many levels, but the lessons he taught me were a bit pre-mature for my foolish, childish brain, and they didn’t register right away. He kept on preaching and teaching me things, and I continued to ignore them. Time has caught up with me, though. As a young man, my old man was always angry, and he never liked other people. Other people were always dangerous, mean, harmful, bad-spirited, and for some reason, they always wanted to take advantage of us. The only safe place in the world was our old house which was our home, which was the only place we could feel safe and relaxed.

I remember when I was fifteen, and he taught me how to drive a car. His lesson didn’t last too long. After the first day, I left the car crying, drowning in tears, because the old man had no patience with me, and I didn’t know when to focus on the road or his screams. The next day my mother signed me up for driving school, and some other man was teaching me the driving skills. 

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