The events that took place from the Summer of 2002 up to the 1 year anniversary of September 11th were as confusing, devastating, and crippling as any years of my life. This hadn't been the first time I had disowned my father. A long string of disappointments led me to almost anticipate them, as a boxer reacts to his opponent. But this time was different. The pain and heartache my father caused by walking away from our relationship was the final straw. In my heart and in my mind my father ceased to exist, until that one Friday afternoon.
Summer was here and that always brought me excitement. I hadn't really thought about my father or the events that transpired until I opened a letter addressed to me. It was a wedding invitation from my father announcing that he was going to get married. At this point saying I was mad is an understatement. I was crushed, confused, and furious balled into one. I was angry at my father for not calling me himself. Had he met someone during the time we hadn't talked? Or did he choose not to mention her while we spent those few days together? Why hadn't he called me during those months? All of these painful thoughts and emotions were running through my head. I was overwhelmed as you can imagine. I couldn't absorb any more wounds.
My way out, my escape was to ignore the invitation. Surely I wasn't going to show up to my father's wedding. The crazy thing is I never had the opportunity to even decide. The following day a simple phone call would force me to make a tougher decision then I ever realized. Forgiveness.
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