Is the presence of a father always a good thing? Have you ever wanted to meet your father?

Have you ever wanted to meet your father? Well I remember as a kid I used to say to my sister, “I’m going to find our father before I leave this earth.” And sure as my lips spoke those words into the universe that day surely did come. It was my last year in college; I was working at an internship at the Cook County Adult probation department which wasn’t mandatory for my major in criminal justice, however, I wanted the experience in my field. While working there I had access to prisoner’s records, so I decided to check the county jail record books. I searched the database for my father; Mr.Willie Graham who had been in jail all my life. Out of all the several thousands of inmates that were listed, I only found one Willie Graham. The date of birth and address was the same last known address for my dad. “Wow…..I can’t believe it”, I found my dad. No sooner than I called the jail to set up a visit to see this man who was my father.

Visiting day had finally arrived; my stomach had been in knots the day before and I tossed and turned all night. So the next day I get up and out the door and headed down to the jail. I arrived not knowing what to expect, what to say, and not even sure how I should feel. As I walked into the room where my father would await my arrival, there was a thick glass window separating myself and the prisoners. There were 5 men behind the glass, but I immediately saw this man for the first time and was able to point him out as my father. He walked over to the side where I was standing and said, “What up Mike” I replied, “Try again.” He immediately started crying and said, “son.” Well Mike is my uncle and because we look so much alike he assumed I was him. So we talked, I told him what I was doing and that I was about to graduate from college. He asked me if he got out of jail in enough time if he could come to my college graduation. I just looked at him and said, “umm hmm.” Well, he didn’t get out.

About a year or so later, I was living on the Northside of Chicago. When I returned home from work, the manager of my building said, “Some man named Willie came by looking for you saying he was your dad and he left a number for you to call him.” I called him and got his mother instead who was so excited to hear from me. I was amazed that she instantly knew it was me without ever hearing my voice. She said, “Willie went out for a few, but he was waiting for you to call.”

I’m at home cooking dinner, just about to chow down on some fried chicken wings and boxed macaroni and cheese when the phone rings, it’s him my father. He says, “I know you probably don’t feel comfortable with me coming up so why don’t you come down stairs.” I went downstairs to see him. OMG, I hugged my father for the first time ever. My heart dropped to the floor; meeting my father for the first time in physical form seemed so surreal. But unfortunately after only talking for less than 10 minutes, we were about to come to blows. I can’t even remember what brought that on, but I remember him saying “ You are definitely my son, that temper.” He start telling me about his lifestyle, how manipulative he used to be, how he was dangerous, how he shot people, sold drugs, used drugs and pimped. He also made sure to mention that he left my mother because he was no good for us and had he been around me I wouldn’t have been the person I have grown to be because he had such great influence and surely I would have followed in his footsteps. I thought to myself for a moment, he is probably right and for the first time I realized that sometimes God takes us through things that we cannot explain, and when we search for the answers to the unanswerable questions God reminds us that he is always in control so just be still and patient and your blessing will be revealed in his time. The absence of my father in my life, while it caused me much confusion, left me feeling abandoned at the time. In hindsight I may not be where I am today had my father been around, so I guess I can say his absence was a mixed blessing.

The ironic thing about this story is I lived at 4423 N. Sheridan and my dad always lived on the next block on Sunnyside. I had absolutely no idea that I moved to the same area as my father and all that time he lived so close yet we were so far apart.

Later I introduced my father to my sisters. My father established a relationship with my sisters and me, but I was a bit distant. I would often see my father in the neighbor where I lived and from what I gathered he had seemingly gone back into his old habits. Due to his awkward behaviors it appeared that he was doing drugs again because of his actions. Some time had passed and my father had become ill and had to be hospitalized. I remember my sister kept telling me to go see him, he is not doing well. I didn’t want to see him at the stage he was at……he died.