I turned 29 years old last month. I've never really had any direction in life. Usually very confused about what I want and can never seem to have a passion for any type of career. I have worked since I turned 18 and my current job is decent enough.

I was born in Ohio and lived there until I was 11 in 1996. My parents divorced and my mom moved my brother and I to Tennessee where my grandparents live. Being the youngest with three siblings, my oldest brother and sister were already living in their own, though my sister did decide to join us here months later. My oldest brother still lives in Ohio. Since we moved I have only saw my oldest brother twice. We talk on Facebook once in a while, but it would still be nice to actually spend some time together.

My memories of my dad are mixed. I know he loves me and wanted to be a good dad but he really didn't try at life. From what I can remember, he wasn't a good provider and was usually a pretty bitter and negative person. Once we moved to TN, I might have talked to him on the phone around ten times and saw him twice from 1996-2004. His excuse for never calling was that he thought my mom doesn't want him to despite her telling him otherwise.

Growing up in Tennessee was tough. All the kids in my middle school spoke different than me and had different interests. I was made fun of a lot for my northern accent and for being a Yankee. That actually didn't bother me though, I had it in my head that I was better because I thought I sounded more intelligent when I spoke. After a while most of the kids seemed to forget and I started to fit in.

It took a long time to realize how important a father-son relationship is. Sometimes I see how much I missed out on when I'm around my friends and their dads. My mom is great. She changed pur lives when she did was she did, but when you're raised (from my point a view teenage years are the most important.) by one parent you only get one side of the coin. There are just some things your mom can't teach you.  A lot of times I feel incomplete.

In early 2012 my brother that originally moved to TN with us established contact with my father again on a semi regular basis. My brother would tell me that he asked about me and told me he said he loves me. A while later my brother encouraged me to call and talk to him, but I was too stubern. I told myself that he didn't care to call for all those years so why should I call him?. In October 2012 my father died at his home in Ohio. He was 63. My brother in Ohio called and told me the news. I knew he wasn't been in the greatest health, but I wasn't expecting that. To this day I have yet to break down and cry or morn his death. Honestly, am I some kind of jerk?

The next day I went to work as nothing had happened. Nobody knew about except some close friends and my family down here. My brother drove to his funereal, I did not attend. I really didn't know how to handle it.


I guess I'm going to end this here for now. I don't expect anyone to ever read this, but I feel I should appolagize for how bad this is, should someone ever come across it. This isn't meant to be anything formal, just for me to get out what's inside my head.