CHILDREN raised in a home without a father do not recognise the imbalance or realise that someone is missing. After all, they cannot miss the presence of a father they never had, so their world consists mainly of the people who provide and care for them. When father figures are portrayed in stories, or other children speak about their dads, children from fatherless homes become aware that their father is absent. They ask questions and form ideas and images of the elusive person who assisted in their creation.

It is usual for children to want to know their fathers. They like to know what traits and features they inherit from him and may want to meet their relatives on his side of the family. Although children spend most of their time with their mothers, fathers have equal importance. The relationship between father and child should be encouraged and maintained even if parents separate. Unless the father is a child abuser or puts the child’s safety or well-being at risk, fathers should have access to their offspring.

A grown woman recalls: The memories I have of my father carry no substance or worth. He was just a man who showed up now and then, but he never hugged me or talked to me about anything of value. I received no birthday cards from him, and he never took me out or showed an interest in how I progressed at school or as a person. He was my father by title only.

My mum tried her best. She even gave us the odd birthday party when she could afford to, but she was rushed off her feet with work and maintaining the family, so my bond with her wasn’t the greatest. Without even realising it, I raised my children in a fatherless home, although it didn’t start that way. I didn’t get along with their father and thought nothing of leaving him behind when our marriage broke down and caring for my children on my own.

I thought I was doing something sensible; I am a strong woman who could make it without the help of a man. It never crossed my mind to consider the children’s feelings and ensure they maintained a good relationship with their father. He came to see them now and again, which was good enough for me – it was more than I ever got from my father.

When I heard their dad had met someone new and was expecting a baby, I felt happy for him; he was moving on in life. Little did I know, this new event would change his relationship with our boys. His visits became sparse as the boys grew into adolescence. They were good boys, well-mannered and disciplined with their education.

They didn’t give me much trouble. I must admit, though, it dawned on me that they needed some male input. I began to see where a father figure could give additional strength, support and influence along the way. When I realised that young men do not confide or speak about certain things with their mothers, their father was completely taken up with his new family, and the bond between him and our boys lay in tatters.

Years later, when the boys were in their twenties, I heard through my youngest son how much he had been affected by the break-up and separation. We were having a slight disagreement one day, nothing heated or disrespectful, when it all came pouring out – it was as if he had kept it inside for years. In a passion, he blamed me for leaving his father and spoiling his life. He said nothing was the same when we moved away and left his dad. As a child, he never felt protected with me as head of the home and would wake up in a panic after crying himself to sleep.

I had no idea his childhood was so traumatic; I saw no outward signs of the grief he felt at the time – I guess I was working too hard to notice. My immediate impulse was to put my arms around him to comfort the boy inside the man, but I realised that would not take away his pain. I tried to explain that, at the time, I did what I thought was best for all of us. My children needed me, and I could not function in an unhappy marriage. If I could go back and change the circumstances to give him the peace of mind he deserves, I would – it was never my intention to cause my children harm.

Although filled with emotion, our conversation ended amicably. We cannot change the past, but we can heal from trauma with love, patience and understanding. My trauma took the form of neglect from my father; I allowed it to shadow the decisions I made.

Over time I learnt to put the past in perspective – it isn’t easy, but it is necessary to move on and progress in life. There is no point in remaining bitter about the past. It is better to lay it out in front of you and examine the contents, learning from things that happened.

If my son needs me, I am here to help, but only he can self-heal in his way over time. I pray that one day he will find the same peace with the past that I found.

If you are concerned about the welfare of a child, call the CPA hotline on 227 0979 or write to us at childcaregy@gmail.com
A MESSAGE FROM THE CHILDCARE AND PROTECTION AGENCY, MINISTRY OF HUMAN SERVICES AND SOCIAL SECURITY