Searching for Caesar Sanchez.
In 2 Days, bags will be checked,
screenings will be past and boarding will begin for a flight to Santiago,
Dominican Republic; where a reunion with a man barely known, have rarely seen
or spoken too and at most have spent 10 days together; will take place. Staring
into the mirror this morning shaving grey hairs and noting the lines that have
formed, the realization struck; I am far from the little boy and teenager who
so eagerly needed mentoring and guidance through confusing years. And though
the time for throwing the football around has past like so many other father
son activities all boys absent a dad dream of experiencing, there is still time
to share, bond, grow and love. At least that is what I tell myself …over and
over again.
THIS JUNGLE WE CALL NYC
There are no denials there has been this missing part that has eluded understanding for far too long; casting a shadow over my subconscious. Years of angst, resentments, feelings of abandonment and emotions that are beyond description. They have manifested from the lack of a relationship and communication with my biological father. During the course of my journeys I have encountered and befriended many men such as myself. The Outsiders. The outcasts. The ones who were always searching for guidance in this jungle we call NYC. Perhaps that is why so many of us were drawn together, maybe that’s why we hold these Fathers Day’s gatherings so close to our hearts. To give our children the adoration we missed as kids, to stand together as fathers recognizing each others parental devotion and proudly saying
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“I am going to be there for them; and my kids are
going to know there father loves them”.
Together we acknowledge the involved fathering we give to our kids but never were fortunate enough to receive ourselves. Men of kindred philosophies, sent out to learn every lesson on our own, the HARD WAY!
These commonalities have bonded us and brought us closer as we unified attempts to provide a foundation, supporting communities and family structure most of us have been deprived of. Sadly most of my brethren are of Hispanic decent, not all….but most! A pandemic that is now the responsibility of Generation X, the generation of latch key kids to cowboy up and mend the fences that so many of our fathers failed to do. To build, to construct with patience, compassion and forgiveness a connection for the betterment of our offspring; maybe they can be better grandparents if given the opportunity?
FRESH STARTS AND BRIGHT BEGINNINGS
Deep down I always wondered how my
father was doing. Was he alive? Healthy? Does he ever think about me? After countless
searches with fruitless results, now I get to answer those questions. I get to
see my father as a man, as a father myself for the first time since I can
remember. So long I have a 20 year old sister I have never met. Who has been more
inviting and generous then I could have ever imagined. And aunts, uncles and
cousins who have embraced me so passionately it has brought me to tears on
repeated occasions.
Those of you who know me…are aware
of my documented past. Many of us carry heavy baggage and the thought of at
this point in life trusting someone new is worrisome. To those who do not know
me yet, please don’t let the trials and tribulations of my past cloud your
judgment of my future.
I feel blessed to have the
opportunity to reconcile with my father, my sister and an entire family I had
thought lost only four weeks ago. Not many get this chance! That is why I will
cherish these moments, with the thoughts of all the friends I have had the
pleasure of knowing that share my dilemma. I am sensitive to the fact a
generation has past for my father as well and that he might not want or need
the same things I do in a relationship. But that is love…putting yourself out
there and allowing the other person the chance to either hurt you or return the
love.
I am more nervous and scared now then I can ever remember
being?
Holla @ ur boy if you feel me!
