As I sat by my mother’s bedside, I heard the nurse saying that it could be any moment now. She said that they sometimes hold on for one last thing, and I had no idea what my dying mom had been holding on. Her final words changed everything!

When she finally opened her eyes and looked at me with softness I hadn’t seen in years, she whispered, “Your father is alive!”

But before I could ask her anything, she was gone, and I was left with the weight of those final words.

Mom’s funeral was small, attended by a couple of neighbors and some family members. During those moment, I grieved for the parent I lost, but at the same time I couldn’t stop thinking about the parent that was still alive and my mom’s final words.

For as long as I could remember my mother told me that my dad died in a car accident before I was even born. Except that, she never talked about him, ever. No matter how much I wanted to learn about the man he was, she would always change the topic, and it wasn’t until now that I understood there was more to the story.

After the funeral, I headed to my mom’s place and went through her belongings. There, among a bunch of papers, I found a letter. In it, she wrote that she never meant to lie to me, she was just too scared to tell me the truth. “If you want to learn more about your father, start with the boxes at the attic,” she wrote.

Those old boxes I didn’t even knew existed until then were filled with papers, letters, and old photos. One of the photos featuring a man in his late 20’s had the name Ramon written on it. On the back, a name of a city some 30 km away from mom’s house was written: Northstar Harbor.

In a letter Ramon sent to my mom, he wrote: “Dear Celia, I know you have fears I will disappoint you, but please don’t shut me out. Let’s give our relationship another chance for the sake of our child.”

I needed answers, and I definitely needed a closure, so before long, I found myself driving to Northstar Harbor.

With my dad’s black and white photo in my hand, I went from person to person asking them if anyone knew him, but they all shook their heads.

With my expectations low, I entered a local weather-beaten bait shop. The clerk, an elderly woman, said she believed she knew the man after seeing the photo. “I’ve seen him around. He used to come to my shop with a friend. I believe he once bragged he had a child. He lives in that small house at the end of Bayside Road, I think,” she said.

My heart started pounding. I was about to meet my father, and honestly, I had no idea what to expect.

When I knocked on the house’s door, a man opened it. “How can I help you?” he asked. Barely finding the strength to speak, I asked him: “Are you Ramon?”

He said yes, and that’s when I told him that I thought I was his daughter.

To my astonishment, he showed no surprise. It was as though he was waiting for this moment to take place for way too long.

“I always wondered if I would ever see you,” he said as he welcomed me in.

My father wasn’t a bitter man. He was just someone who led a life filled with obstacles and who didn’t believe would provide me with the life he knew I deserved.

“Your mom was afraid to give us a chance,” he said and explained that he struggled financially and started drinking eventually. He was sober for quite some time, but he couldn’t gather the courage to look for me because he believed he didn’t have anything to offer.

My father was a humble man. I decided I wouldn’t cry for the years lost and that I would appreciate every moment left I had with him.

As of my mom – I didn’t held a grudge. I knew she only did what she did because she believed it was for the best.

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Bored Daddy

Love and Peace