Member-only story
Can I Be a Good Father if I Never Had One?
I was 4 years old when my father died. Now I’m a father myself.
I don’t remember too much from my early childhood, but this scene is burned into my memory. It was the day I found out my father died.
It’s maybe a 30-second memory. I was standing in the hallway. The walls were white and the carpet was beige.
My mom was sitting on the floor against the left wall. She had an enveloped and letter clutched in her right hand. Tears streamed down her red face as she let out loud, horrific wails.
My 2 aunts were crouched in front of her, trying to take her hands and comfort her. My mom just flung her arms away and continued to shriek.
I stood watching, paralyzed. My uncle stood behind me with his hand on my shoulder. The scene itself was traumatizing. I didn’t know what was going on.
A little bit later — I’m not sure if it was minutes or hours later — my mom knelt in front of me. Her hands were shaking and her voice was quivering. She was barely able to utter out the words.
“Dad died.”
