The thing I most remember about my father is the endless quarrels, shouting matches, and drama. We grew up in hardship. Mother worked late into the evenings to earn enough for our daily bread, while Father only sought new reasons to start arguments. One afternoon, we went to the local market to buy vegetables. The grocer made a joke to Mother and we laughed. Father watched her with a cold stare and said not a word.
The uproar once we returned home was fierce. He shouted so loudly the whole street must have heard him. Later, he struck Mother. Another incident happened not long after. Father’s colleague made a remark, half-joking, that I looked nothing like Father. He said I took after Mother and hadn’t inherited anything from my father at all. I was twelve at the time. That year, Father left us, claiming Mother had spoiled me.
From then on, we barely had enough money, even for food. Father never paid child support. Mother refused to battle him in court; she decided to face things on her own. She found another job and did her best to keep us going. All through school, I was determined to earn a place at university. Eventually, I managed to secure employment.
In time, I married well, and at last I could support Mother properly. Now, many years later, a message arrived. It was from Father. He wrote that he wished to reconnect and rebuild our relationship. Honestly, I do not know what to do. Some people advise me to meet him, to talk things over. But to tell the truth, I am not eager for it. I still remember the day he walked out on us. He is a stranger to me now. No fond memories spring to mind. So far, I have not told Mother about his message. I remain uncertain about how to proceed.
