I Am A Fatherless Daughter : A Short Story

Sometimes I wonder just how messed up I’ll be for not having a mother around growing up. Other times I am less pessimistic. Regardless, the lack of a stable relationship with a dominant female figure has altered my personality and how I interact with others.

In the short story, A Fathers Story by Andre Debus, a man named Luke Ripley is challenged by a decision that effects himself, the people he loves, and his faith. The author, Dubus, uses what a man named Paul Fussell describes as "the literary-artistic-historical sensibility"

It’s been a few weeks and it’s finally that day, it’s adoption day. We arrive at court all cheered up for this to finally be official. Before we walk into the room the judge says something to the foster parents and when they told me and my brother, I ran out of court and cried. They had said that on my birth certificate there was a different name for father, meaning I couldn’t get adopted. I told my brother to get adopted anyways I just wanted to know he was safe. I walked back in the courtroom with a smile on my face but i was dying on the inside.

Single fathers are a minority. They are rare, but growing rapidly as more and more people can fathom a father being able to satisfy the needs of his children. Single fathers are not given sole custody without a fight. A much harder one than what a Mother would have to endure. Normally, custody is given to the mother. Lately, however, fathers are starting to care more about their childrens best interests, and are begining to fight against the sterotypes society has dealt them.

My mother agreed to let me live with him because she wanted to start truck driving with her new husband and she knew she could not support a child while truck driving. The experiences that I have lived through because of my mother and her side of the family will forever leave a mark on me. When I was younger I would wake up in the middle of the night due to night terrors and my father would have to hold me tight to get me to calm down, I was traumatized and felt unwanted because of my unstable life with my mother.

While I was still little I didn’t quite understand why he had to be so far away. He would come down to visit once a year, I used to be so happy to see him. He would always bring me gifts and money every time he came home. Every year when he came home for a little while we used to stay at my uncle’s house, it was always fun. Me and my dad would always

After my father and my mom got divorced, we still saw my dad every weekend and on Wednesday’s.

Fatherless, a ten lettered word that has had the capability to transform me into the person I am today. The word which reminds me of the cold bars that separated my father and me.

Growing up I dreamed of my first daddy/ daughter dance at school, walking at graduation and seeing my father stand up and yell out “that’s my daughter!”, having my father walk me down the aisle on my wedding day and countless other things. Ever since I was about 6 years old I have had a question on my mind, who could my father be and how can I be sure? The man who I used to call my father, Dan, put that question in my head when one day he said to me, “you have no right to call me dad because I am not on your birth certificate and I never will be because I am not your father.” That day was the day that changed everything for me. I knew I wouldn’t have someone to do those things for or with me. Knowing I wouldn’t have someone there to be proud of me I began to push myself to be a better person and to be successful to make myself proud, but the question never went away.

Communities, families, and friends all drastically affect the young men and women into which every child eventually matures. Their lifestyles, choices, and even fates can be determined by these elements in their lives. Two boys with the same name, each born and raised in Baltimore in the presence of a loving family, somehow managed to end up on two completely different life paths. While one is forced to endure a life sentence in prison, the other has accomplished many notable achievements, including writing a New York Times bestselling novel titled The Other Wes Moore.

As a child I never knew what it was like to have a father; subsequently, twenty

"Victoria! Don't forget to pack, it's your dads weekend." My mom shouted across the hallway in our house. My parents have been divorced since before I was born so every time my father was in town I'd visit him. When I was younger, I would always ask my dad if I could spend the night at my cousins house since they were from his side of his family and that was the only time I could see them. Afterwards it became a routine going over to their house, little by little I hated going there but I was left in silence. One night, my cousin Emily went out with her friends and I was left to sleep alone in her room. As I was slowly falling asleep, I heard the door creek open and quietly shut closed... I quickly awaken, my heart beats as if it is about to pop out of my chest, I weep as movements get closer and he says "shhh.." There he was, beside me gliding his fingers down my belly to places his hands shouldn't be.

He was astonished that he had yet another power. He wondered what else there was to come. Emilio was excited. He felt that energy around him swarm all of his senses, it was a very empowering feeling. It was something Emilio had never felt before. Emilio had always been stepped on and put down, this was the first time he stood up and fought back without being hurt and getting away with it. The memories of being hurt and humiliated on many levels started to swarm him, he just stood there, motionless. He stared into what he thought was real life, was really just memories. Memories of the most brutal moments in his life, his father, Joey, other kids at school, and even little things that put him over the top.

Getting pregnant at fifteen has brought my life so much purpose and responsibility. My greatest priority is raising my son to be a respectful, well rounded, and successful man. My greatest obstacle has also been raising a fatherless son. As a single mother, I am the primary provider, the disciplinarian, and the role model. I am solely responsible for my child’s education, health, and happiness. Like other single mothers, I make a valorous effort to succeed at all these roles and more. I’ve been far from perfect at my motherly duties but I’ve learned many life lessons from each one of our situations, which are all priceless.

One day, my dad decided to go to new York for a few months. I was happy for him, although I didn’t know why he went? The reason he came here was to visit part of his family ( my grandma, three of my