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  • #16
    Originally posted by Stormraven View Post
    I never knew my real father, and he wouldn't have ever been called 'daddy' even if I had. (At most, he might have rated a 'father') But we called our stepfather by his first name, and do to this day.
    Same with me. I've even taken my father's last name and am proud to continue in the footsteps of his father's by my service to our country.

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    • #17
      Perhaps you're more of a father to him than his paternal Dad is and he respects you. What's so wrong with that?
      The test of police efficiency is the absence of crime and disorder, not the visible evidence of police action in dealing with it. Robert Peel

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      • #18
        Originally posted by crazylegs View Post
        Perhaps you're more of a father to him than his paternal Dad is and he respects you. What's so wrong with that?
        Agreed, this may be likely.

        It's all perspective based on the situation, really. My biological father for the longest time, was simply labeled the "sperm donor"

        Whereas, whenever I'm showing family photos of my mom and stepdad, it's "Here's a picture of my parents", largely because he's been more of a father to me, in the fewer years I've known him than my biological father.

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        • #19
          I'm the odd one out. Below is long and emontional. I never knew my dad until recently. My mom hated my father with a passion, but never ever said a single bad word about him. She told me honest truth about him. He was the smartest man she knew, but was a major drunk and drug user. He would became very evil and cruel when drunk. Never hit her, but would know what insults to say to cut her down to ribbons. He do it to my sister too, who was like, 8 or 9 when she knew him. As such, shortly after I was born and he was facing prison time, she told him that was it. Good bye. Took me and left him at prison.

          I did ask about him alot. She gave bits and pieces, including the one picure she had of him. I did get to visit with my grandparents on his side. Nontheless, my father figure was a man named Steve. He was with me since I was a baby until I turned ten when mom left him after she got beaten in front of him and he didn't raise a finger to help her as the dude doing it was his connection to meth. I was at school at the time, otherwise I would have done something. Very scary times though as I didn't know where she was. I learned later she was living off the streets. Steve did what he could, but didn't really want anything to do with me too much. I got shuffled to my grandparents, who I loved but I didn't know what to do. I was scared I never see my mom again.

          I did eventually get with mom again. We stayed at various friends houses until she broke down and moved in with her mom. It was during the times, I later learned that shortly before she got beaten she was starting to get off the drugs. She quit cold turkey, and was going through so many different emontions about so many different things she felt she couldn't control herself, and may have tried smacking me around and she didn't want that. End story she did get off drugs, we moved out of grandma's basement got our own place and yadda yadda yadda. She did feel guilty and kept it from me for a few years that she did sneak a couple hits off a joint of weed when a old drug buddy that came to visit.

          I love my mom so much.

          Anyway, point I was rambling on is Steve. I sometimes talk to him, but now? he so strun out on drugs. He got alot of money after his dad died, then got some money from the military after he won a lawsuit from this for a injury he got while he was in it that destroyed three disks in his spine. (This was before i knew him, a 25+ year lawsuit still boggles my mind) that he got so loaded with meth and had such a massive drug over dose that he had several sizures and other shit, that he can't remember five minutes ago. He knows me, loves me, but its impossible to talk to him. I loved Steve. Even if I hated some of the things he did, he still worked damn hard to keep a roof over me, mom and sisters heads and well fed. I still never called him dad. Or father. I always called him Steve.

          My dad? His sister in law got a hold of me when I was ...22?? She was looking for me for her nephew. Yep. I had a half-brother and half-sister. Both much younger then me. My brother had the one picture my dad had of me, which was when I was a baby with a giant bruise on my head. He asked our dad about me everyday. I often tried to get a hold of my father through the years through my grandparents, but he wanted nothing to do with me at the time. So once I turned 18 and was turned down by again, I pretty much said fuck him. thats when my mom told me everything about my dad. She let go of the hatred she has for him. (She still does). I didn't want anything to do with him ether. Then I get a call from an aunt I never knew I had. She tracked me down using internet, calls, everything she could get a hold of. It was a very strange phone call, as she knew alot, even my real name (Very unusual first name, which is Driver ). She wanted me for my brother. Then she asked a very usunusal question which threw me for a loop.

          Aunt: "I uh, do have one thing to say first.. I really hope you don't mind..."
          ME: ???
          Aunt: "Your brother uh... he's...."
          ME: ??? "He's what?"
          Aunt: "He's half black,. His mom is black".
          NE: (Thinking duh since my dad was white XD) "That's not a problem!"

          She was relived. I got to talk to my little brother I never knew I had. I got to talk to my little sister I never knew I had. It was a very... emontional time.

          I had to tell mom afterwards. I was racing through the story, when she cut me off.

          "He's halfblack, right?"

          "!? How'd you know?"

          Well, apprertly a long time ago, when I was just started high school she and her new boyfriend at the time, Lonny, got on the bus and sat down. A little boy was staring at lonny. Lonny being the slight racist prick he was just kinda groaned "What do you want!?"

          Baby: "I know who you are!"
          Lonny: "Who?"
          Baby: "Santa Claus!"

          (Yeah, Lonny was very fat, and had a beard). He just laughed at that, and started to talk to the baby and the dad. Next stop mom dragged him off even though it wasn't the right stop. He wanted to know why as they waited for the next bus.

          Mom: "Don't ever talk to strangers. That was Driver's dad!"
          Lonny: "...oh..."

          So she kept it for me. But she knew. She even suggested it would be good for me to talk to my brother and sister, but don't have hopes for my dad.

          So a few talks later, I got to talk to my dad who strangly sounded like me. I did meet up with them. Quite a bit really.

          Turns out I was the one that left that. Not because he was black as some said so. But because I couldn't be the brother he wanted. I wasn't good at sports like he was. I wasn't popular with the girls like he was. (A real charmer he is). I was nothing but a negative asshole hateful of life and no hope for myself. I knew, that I couldn't be what he wanted.

          That, and Dad got drunk and tried to kidnap me, and then when I wouldn't be kidnapped, he then insulted my mother and sister. That resulted the first time I ever laid hands on any parent as I smashed him pretty hard in the nose, stole his beer from the car and dumped it out. He drove off.

          Now, I do talk to my brother sometimes. Not as much as I want, but i have little to no contact with dad.

          And thats the thing. The terrible half of who I am? The major reason why mom pushes me to never drink or do drugs as I have such huge potenial to become heavly addicted to them? I still called him Dad. I never called him anything but Dad. So ... strange. But I do. The man I resent alot, I still call him Dad.

          Mom says I do get alot of the same smarts from him and her. She always said he was really fucking smart, and when I did met him, he was smart.

          But that drinking... he becomes a fucking monster. He won't hit. But he knew how to insult someone just the right way. I can handle insults to myself, but he went straight to my mom and sister calling them names to my face, that sent me into such a rage that I lashed out and HIT him. I don't even remember the insults, but I did lose my temper and hit him.


          How strange is it to call someone who isnt a father in deed but genetic, but to only call the father figure by his name? No wonder I'm fucked up XD>
          Toilet Paper has been "bath tissue" for the longest time, and it really chaps my ass - Blas
          I AM THE MAN of the house! I wear the pants!!! But uh...my wife buys the pants so....yeah.

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          • #20
            I've never called my dad's wife mom, I already have a mom. And sure as hell a better one than she could ever be.

            To her face I always called her by her name, but I used to refer to her as my step-mom, that was before the whole court case thing to do with my school. Now she's either my father's wife, or The gold digging bitch from hell. But I digress...

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            • #21
              I never knew my dad, or had a step dad or anything. I never even saw a picture of him, even though I tried to find one of him through the navy (he was in the navy for years). I do have some of his military records but that's it. And I know he died in 1984. I tracked that down through his social security number which I had in his military records.

              So I have no father figure whatsoever ...
              https://www.youtube.com/user/HedgeTV
              Great YouTube channel check it out!

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