Twisted in the wind

“Given a chance would he still be my father?”  My little boy clasped my hand. He was on his hospital bed down with pneumonia. His body was so pale and he looked almost lifeless. The past week had seen us out in the cold with nothing to neither eat nor cover ourselves up. I looked at him and my eyes squishy swelled with tears. He was a little boy and I did not want to lie to him neither did I want to keep the truth away from him. We had come a long way and this was not the point to ruin our relationship.

His father was my high school sweetheart. He impregnated me right after college admission. My dad being thunder did not want to hear anything about it. Someone had to be blamed and Mum had to take his entire wrath. He claimed that she did not raise me in what society termed ‘perfect’. As a result, I was sent out of home to fend for myself and my growing tummy. It was not easy. Everyone had an opinion about my morals but no one cared to take me in and give me the courage to face yet another day. I had to get two jobs just to keep him alive.

I went to him; he didn’t want to see me.

“I have a dream to chase and not you nor that thing you are carrying going to stop me”

“I will only provide a roof under your miserable head, nothing else”

Those were his words. I didn’t believe him until delivery time. I was alone. It felt cold and hopeless. God knows i had not bargained for that. Jealous eyes watched as people milled around other women in the maternity ward. I had no one by my side. I had to practically do everything for myself and the baby; save for well-wishers who would step in once in a while to help me out. It was helpful and I appreciated it, but it didn’t bring the closure that comes with family.  I longed for someone to hold my hand and tell me that it was going to be okay. I wanted reassurance that it was going to be fine but no one came.

My little one was born. He was the only company I had. He gave me peace and love only mothers understand. He was my imperative to live. We had been through a lot. We knew what it meant to sleep out in the cold, we knew how it felt to go without food and without doubt knew what it meant to be locked out of the house and how it felt for strangers to immediately take our place in what we once called home. Life certainly has an uncanny way of playing favorites.

He wanted an answer but I was not ready to pick a side. This was the man who gave him life and was without doubt determined to take it out of him.