I Love My Dad

Always... I love my dad. He's not my biological father. He's from Macedonia. He raised me since I was one and always made sure I was well taken care of. Always.

He wasn't perfect, and my mother wasn't either. They might have been happy, if it weren't for my mothers drug addictions.

Shortly after I got married, my husband got a religious ruling that I could not contact him because he never married my mother. I was young, naive and I didn't contact him and he didn't contact me.

Well, for the first time since I was 19, (ten years), I contacted him.

I texted him pictures of me and my kidz. I texted him (I'm too chicken shit to call him). I told him how pressured I was by the religious community I was in, and all the pressure to conform to this and that and how my husband had forbidden me to contact him.

I apologized to him for that. I told him I'd understand if he was mad, but that I hoped he wasn't angry with me and that I hoped that he could forgive me.

I hope that one day soon that when we are ready, I can see him again and talk to him again. I hope for the best. I have had my stomach twisted over this.

I am so sorry that I let things get this way. I am so sorry that I didn't see the signs that I was too naive and gullible and young to see it.

But no matter what my Bubbi did (what I called him growing up), I will always love him. Even if he doesn't forgive me. I will always love him. He was my Bubbi, he took care of me, he loved me, made sure I was fed and clothed me and love me more than many men love their own children.


UPDATE:

I talked to my dad over the weekend. He thought something was wrong. It was a lil awkward. We talked. He didn't get my text/apology or my pics. But he was doing good. I just wanted to say Hi and see how he was doing. It was really nice to hear his voice again.