I do not have a desire to write about my birth father at this moment. It is difficult for me be to be objective about him. My writing would come up as false enthusiasm that deserves none. I prefer not to lie about my feelings. For those of you close to me, you know I wear them on my shoulder rather than hide them. It is part of my nature.
I called him on Christmas Day and the first thing he does is criticize me for not calling him when I left the island. He joked to me that it must be an American thing.
What did you expect? You sent a taxi to pick me up from the airport and you sent me home in a taxi. Perhaps that is a St. Lucian custom? If that is the case, I am at fault.
If an American with some sensibility, meets their child for the first time, it is customary to say hello upon meeting them and goodbye before they catch their plane or drive off.
I may look back on this writing as harsh but I can't deny obvious things and I am burnt out giving so many jerks and assholes my benefit-of-a-doubt. I was too nice to him.
I am disappointed despite having no expectations for our meeting.