-
RSS Follow Become a Fan

Recent Posts

A French Fix to Ending Violent Protests
The Need for Stability in France
A US Complaint, a Canadian Arrest - the Uncertainty of China's Meng Wanzhou
Farewell President George H.W. Bush
Suspension of Fuel Tax Increases in France - a Move to Ending Violence

Most Popular Posts

Mourn with Moore
On Partnerships of Conflicting Ideologies as a Force Shaping Extremism
DC Linktank
The World in 2014 - Asia
From This Point

Categories

Elections 2013
Friends in Business
Gun control
Immigration Reform
In America
Natural Disaster
The World
Towards 2014

Archives

December 2018
November 2018
October 2018
September 2018
August 2018
July 2018
June 2018
May 2018
April 2018
March 2018
February 2018
January 2018
December 2017
November 2017
October 2017
September 2017
July 2017
June 2017
May 2017
April 2017
March 2017
February 2017
January 2017
December 2016
November 2016
October 2016
September 2016
August 2016
July 2016
June 2016
May 2016
April 2016
March 2016
February 2016
January 2016
December 2015
November 2015
October 2015
September 2015
August 2015
July 2015
June 2015
May 2015
April 2015
March 2015
February 2015
January 2015
December 2014
November 2014
October 2014
September 2014
August 2014
July 2014
June 2014
May 2014
April 2014
March 2014
February 2014
January 2014
December 2013
November 2013
October 2013
September 2013
August 2013
July 2013
June 2013
May 2013
April 2013
March 2013

powered by

My Blog

Memoirs of a Fatherless Boy

...a long anticipated inquiry of my absentee mother, whom I had not seen in over nine-years, as to "what did my father look like?" was answered by a hopeful self-pleasing and daunting, "look into the mirror and you would see."

I could never accept this explanation from my mother because everything from her to me appeared questionable that summer in New York City, New York, where I was seeing her for the first time since she left me at the age of seven on the Caribbean island, of Barbados. 

It was now nine-years later and I had quickly and resolutely developed a characteristic to question all things rendered as reasons and explanations to all events, for in the time my mother had left me, a brother and a half-sister, I had seen and witnessed many evils of humankind, committed with some absurd explanation that such deeds should never be questioned, but be accepted just because a child was instructed to do so. I rejected all such reasoning. I demanded truth, honest and moral standing.

Before my mother had left Barbados seeking refuge in the United States(US) back in 1970, she and other relatives had informed me that my father, a Grenadian national, residing in Barbados, had died when I was two-years-old. I am yet to see a photograph of any scientific image of my father.

My mother's rendition that I resembled my father was preposterous to me. They all had told me that he was bald - receded from the forehead. Then, I had a full head of hair. Today, I am bald, not by nature, but by my own self-affliction. Thus I could never fathom any truth that I could resemble my father on my mother's claim that I "look into the mirror and you would see." 

Not one adult, including uncles and aunts, of my mother's relations, who have known me from birth, have ever said to me that I look like my father. 

Yet, I wish I resemble my father so that at least, I could have some closure per my mere existence, my ancestry and my history.