For there’s never really been a time in our lives whereby I remember having spoken to the both of you at the same time, infact if there was ever even a time in our lives where we were together, I wouldn’t remember. I’m assuming that than I must’ve been only a child inocently sucking on mother’s chest to satisfy my hunger and had no idea for who and what awaited me.
Today here I am standing 6 foot 5 having almost nothing near to a memory to remember of mom, nor a memory of you dad and neither a memory me, basically there is no memory of “us” ever being together yet ironically growing up has been a very cold journey for me that was filled with many questionable and emotional paths which of course had unanswered parts of my life and that till to this day a very conscious part of my mind is still aware of it.
I’ve also always known that I was different, I could tell my way of reasoning and understanding was different, I believed differently and even the world in my eyes looked different. My entire life has been nothing other than me always compared to anything but different. For a minute there I felt the need to hide from the world but I realised that even when I tried to, I somehow always stood out and perhaps having grown up in an environment [the ghetto] with very little literate people and it having been more of a stereotype kind of surrounding contributed to me shying the inner me away from the eyes of the world which was if not the hardest thing I have ever had to do, I felt that no one could know who I am until I myself knew because honestly all I have ever known was that I was the “other child” or at least that’s how it felt. I mean if we look at it, Mom your two sons had the same father and Dad you were married and had a bunch of other children from the same women or at least most of them were from the women you married and I ask not to be misunderstood because mother, from a far your unconditional motherly love sheltered me just as the the tone of your voice guided me and Dad, well a first and a last name is basically all I can say I knew about you and not a single thing further nothing but a stranger you were to me. Yet silently you were my hero dad. At your memorial service I still recall how they boasted about your riffling skills and how professionally and accurately you would set trap for the enemy while in exile fighting for freedom. The freedom that I have today, whereby I can freely move around and not be stopped by a foreign man in the land of my forefathers just to be questioned because of the colour of my skin or the texture of my hair, well because of you dad I have a place to peacefully rest and to call home. I admit that I am honored to have been a daughter of a freedom fighter, I also appreciate the stories told about you because mother doesn’t really say much when I ask about you and at times I curiously wonder what you were like yet also the little they said about you I truly treasure it for that is it, that is all there will ever be the rest I suppose you took it all with you to the grave . I was angry when you left and when God took you I was even more angrier at him , it felt already that you did not exist and now you were really gone. I thought of it as an unfair situation and If God didn’t so badly want you to be part of my life he might as well not even have introduced you to me , that it would have spared me from all the hurt and confusion but he quickly humbled and I learned that God makes no mistake.
I once heard that when I was younger the two of you had a terrible argument about who’s last name I shall take. I guess we now we know who won.
It felt great, I admit at a point I just didn’t feel like the “other child”. I’ve also realized that the truth is that there was really nothing to forgive. I am no longer angry at all the unexplainable things I had in my life, I now understand that there were decisions made and maybe they were not the very best decisions made but such is life. Dad I understand that you had to take care of your family, your real family and that you had to be a husband to your wife, we’ll looking at me I think I’ve done a good job with being just the “other child” it is just a little sad that apart from Mother, you’ll will never really know who I am because not only am I fascinated by guns and bullets which I probably got from you Dad apparently I also write now or at least I try to plus guess what I’m probably going to the be if not the “highest qualified female plumber” on both sides of the family. I also heard about your sense of humour dad, mom has one to but I think I am funnier than the both of you.
“Dear Mom and Dad” this is me, “your other child” I couldn’t have asked for better parents, well Mom I know I annoy the hell out of you every single day of our lives I mean you my leading lady and my pillar and Dad you “okay”, I finally got my own “guardian angel” would you look at that, either way the both of you did what you could and I appreciate it plus I never once really felt left out as much, Mother made sure of that and maybe someday if I make it to the “light at the end of the tunnel” maybe than you can tell me what you are like Dad, you just make sure you save the kid a spot.
P.S
Sincerely
Your other child
The Plumbers 👩🏾🔧 writing's , Never to be found . 