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my mother lived in a community of apartments called fairway when she was a girl, as well as i did just as a toddler. fairway was what most will realistically call the projects. this is where she grew up. i personally don't think she ever got to grow up the way she needed to. she didn't get the proper examples that should've been placed for her. she was starved of emotional affection from her father. he was incarcerated for the majority of her ''adulthood'', the only memories she held onto him from her childhood were truly traumatic. don't even get me started on what her own mother called love. she set the example that even through abuse someone can love you. i say all of that to say that she didn't have a healthy concept of love. certainly not at the time she met my father. she raised me telling me that they were in love when they were younger...
she spoke of when she used to watch him play basketball. and how excited he would get when he broke the backboard from dunking. my imagination ran wild of me playing basketball with him and having my mom cheer us on. i loved that man unconditionally and with all my heart. through these stories i yearned to hear from her about him, these stories almost made me feel as if i knew him. i cherished those stories. they were all i had of him as a child, other than the couple of times my grandma secretly was able to get him to see me. he led me on to believing of realties of him being in my life and loving me and wanting to spend more time with me. he used to promise this naive little girl that he loved her and was going to come back for her. but he never did.. i wish i could say he died, or moved across the country, anything but the reality of what it was for me as little girl. he was in truth an absent father. and it wasn't until i was 12 till i fully realized that i didn't love this man with all my heart, i never knew him.
i had finally heard the story of my mother and biological father from my stepfather. she started babysitting, that's how they met. it was also the beginning of their ''relationship.'' interesting enough she babysat children that were his. he was at the time i believe 17 with 3 kids and counting. and she was...eleven. i don't know much else about the rest of their story. Except the ones my mother told me about him, the fact that she was 14 when i was born, and that my dad never loved either of us ...
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