We naturally look to avoid pain, and confusion, by trying to make sense of our reality. The need to fill a void ascends from birth. A father and a mother cradling their beloved child back and forth until it stops crying. And when that child senses that their presences is gone, it continues to cry until it has been nurtured.
Fed from the bosom to the bones that crack at the waist. The mother carries her child on her hip until it can crawl. We crawl to the path of walking alone. I received a call from my biological father today. Someone who carries a void like many black men and women till this day.
See he did not have a father, therefore he wasn’t a father. Now I don’t have him as my father, therefore he can not call me his own. But I am not my father or my father’s father. I am a man who will love his child unconditionally. I am a man who would raise his child. I am a man. I am a man. His mother is in the hospital and I stay at her bed. And where is he? Crawling away from the hips that carried him till this day.