The Bittersweet Longing: Navigating the Pain of Missing Someone You Never Met

An unspoken grief of the fatherless: Finding peace and healing amidst the void.

Author: Aline Igihozo

"I'M SENDING OUT MY PRAYERS...

To those with parents they have never met, those who lost their parents, those burdened by their parents, those with single parents.

Maybe it's just me, but when I have a problem, I tend to think I'm the unluckiest person alive or that I'm among the people with the most burdens in the world. I'm not sure. You understand how I feel!

I'm sure that at some point we all forget about those in worse situations and worry so much about our own problems, even when we know what somebody else is going through.

Even though we know it's much more difficult for them, we still think of ourselves first. If it weren’t for God, I would still be living in that same circle. Fine, I'll tell you my story.

It all started when I learned about my father’s death. I was too young to care at the time; I don't even remember when that was. I grew up knowing that he died not long after I was born.

I never knew him, and I had no problem with it at all. Then I started seeing my friends in primary school hugging their fathers. I noticed the joy in their eyes, but still, even then, I tried not to mind.

I would hear them talk about their superhero dads, and sometimes I would see them coming to our school just to check on them and ask how they were doing in class.

I would see them coming very fast whenever anything happened, and there was me, who had everyone around her but not someone I very much wanted. I'm not being ungrateful, but it always looked really cool seeing your dad come to school like Superman.

My friends used to talk about them as if they were supernatural beings who could not be touched. They seemed sacred, like the one person you wouldn’t want to lose. Let alone when my friends were always worried about what their parents, specifically their fathers, thought about them.

I'm sure you've had one of these scenarios, like when my friends and I were all on our way to making trouble, and one would begin to warn everyone that their fathers might find out and punish them… Oh boy!

That was when it would hit me, and it was very funny because I looked like the one because I wasn't that worried. I mean, I looked privileged to them because they knew the answer was "no one." But I wished I had someone to correct or even chastise me for my erroneous innocence.

Regardless of how minor these scenarios were or were not, they always made me think. I wondered what it could have been like if I also had the same kind of fear, love, and care.

The thing is, it messes with your mind when you start asking yourself what could have happened. You start connecting the dots and making it real in your mind, to the point where you miss him. You know.

I started yearning for him. I didn’t even know the guy, but I had a clear picture of us holding hands, and I would cry so hard in the night sometimes.

I wanted to feel the way they felt about their fathers (not that my mother wasn't strict, but I always pictured a different kind of whatever it was I wanted). I know I sound a little pissed right now, but, well, it’s probably because that was when my life turned out like this.

I started picturing my father’s face in my mind. I made him look a lot like me, just so you know, and I made sure he looked as masculine as possible. Of course, I wanted him to look better than all of them, preferably stronger but much more loving. I was desperate for the loving part right now.

Think about it. I shouldn't have been old enough for that. Whoa, I almost forgot one thing: there was this time when I was lonely and felt like there was no one around me that I could trust. I had a lot of friends, but it doesn't always work out when this situation affects you.

I did something that I now consider ridiculous, but it was novel at the time and a big deal for me. I saved a fake number in my phone and named it "Dad."

As ridiculous as it may sound, I felt very confident reading it in my contacts. That way, I was assured and comforted. It felt safe to base my peace of mind on avoiding loneliness by using that fake phone number.

I recall wanting to change schools at one point, but the one I desired the most was expensive. If I am honest, I know that not all kids should get whatever they want, and I understand that a family can be broke and deny you things, but the way my aunt responded to my school-transferring request was priceless.

I lost it. She said, "You have been acting like some rich kid these days, as if your dad left us savings in the bank for you." First and foremost, I never knew this guy, and I was struggling just because he died soon. Getting that from a family member was like "It's my fault he died," a guy they all knew except me.

I was unable to talk to my mother about these things, and most of my friends had problems of their own. Some of them had both parents, but maybe one was cheating on the other, or their mother was being beaten every night, even if they were perfect and allowed their children to lead a good life.

And there were those with no parents at all; I guess to them, I looked like a crybaby because they appeared very strong. One of them once said that having no parents was preferable to having my best friend's parents who were never on the same page and were divorcing in those days.

My best friend in those days was staying with me while her little brother was moving from one relative to another because their parents were drunkards, and God knows what else they would fight about every day.

Back to my story, it was in the years leading up to the end of high school when I realized that everyone was dealing with their own trauma and their own little bullshit.

That's when I decided to start drinking, smoking, and whatever else was available to provide me with temporary peace, and surprise! I had no peace in that. Remember, I had no one to tell all these things to.

So, I tried talking to God and telling Him that even though life was hard for many people, I also felt wronged.

Every day, I told him. Then I started sending my prayers on behalf of my friends with the burdens of their parents, and then I continued to those who have never met their parents or whose parents would not want to meet them. Then I remembered those who lost them (both or one of them).

I may be hurting even right now because I never knew my dad, and I feel like he left this world too soon. I might be hurting because I wasn't fortunate enough to spend my life with him.

It hurts even more when I realize that there is no world at all in which I can fit in with my family because we don’t have the normal life others have.

There is so much more than this that I should focus on, and, well, there are a lot more people hurting than I am. We are not strong, and we are all hurting, and the best we can do is pray for one another and embrace the family God sent our way.