It's Oscar Sunday. I remember watching the Oscars with my mum since I was a little boy. It was mum who got me started with my fascination of movies. She'd take me to various theaters to watch many different types of movies, sometimes they were films of the horror genre. As a child, I remember mum telling me to duck down behind the seats in front of me because she just knew something scary was going to happen and didn't want me to be influenced by it. I knew the coast was clear and that I could sit back down in my own seat when I either heard screams from other viewers or popcorn flew above and around me from those startled or both.
Years later I was told why she took me to the movies so often. Mum chose to go to the movies as a way of escaping what was happening at home -- the friction between her and my da. I also learned that she didn't leave me at home with him because she didn't think da would know how to take care of me properly. My father's father died when he was a little boy and his mum never remarried. My mum, as well as my mum's mother, figured that since my da never had that male role model growing up that he wouldn't know how to be a father to me. When I, as an adult in my early thirties, heard those reasonings from my mum, it angered me. It angered me because both she and her mother never really gave him a chance to be the father he could have been. For the most part, the only time he had those fathering moments was when mum was around. I think of that and I wonder that perhaps if he'd have been given the opportunity to father me as best as he knew how, that maybe he wouldn't have left mum and I when I was a teenager.
As far as I know, I'm the last of my family line. With the exception of second cousins and whomever else, I'm it. I was always the only child. I would have had an older brother, but mum miscarried and the baby died (I'll go further to say that the baby wasn't with the man I came to know as my father, but with a different man -- a man of "rebellious and wild ways" -- whom mum knew before she met my father). Both of my grandfathers died before I was born. Both of my grandmothers are gone as well. No aunts, uncles, or cousins. I'm it. As far as I know. No one ever found my father. He disappeared a week before Christmas when I was seventeen and was never heard from again. Mum and I, relatives and friends all tried as best as we could to find him and even had police detectives on the search, but no trace could be found. Many months was spent in the UK as well in hopes that he'd be found, but the end result was he was gone without a trace. When he left, all da took with him was his wallet, his passport, a suitcase of clothes and the car. The car was found at the airport, but he wasn't registered as being on any flight. The detective felt that da left the car there as an attempt to lead the investigation to the airport whilst he fled somewhere else, possibly choosing a different mode of transportation altogether.
It's odd that I should think upon that on this day. As I started writing this entry, I had no idea I'd share that bit of information about my life. I suppose deep in the recesses of my mind I still think about him. My feelings on why he left and in the manner he chose to do so are those of anger and sadness. I haven't known nor seen him for over half my life now, yet I still wonder about him. Of course I've done my research on and off throughout the years whether talking to friends of the family, venturing on-foot throughout different places in the UK we frequented as a family, and even using the internet. Still, nothing. From time to time I'd even check the obituaries of various newspapers, reading as far back as I could or as far back as from when I'd checked it before. Again, nothing. Da wanted to disappear. And disappear, he did.
As I watch the Academy Awards tonight, I wonder if I'll think of him. I wonder if I'll think of the times I had to duck behind seats at mum's command. I wonder if I'll have the feeling of appreciation of loving movies, both new and old, thanks to mum introducing them to me (though her way of going about it could've, in my opinion, been more approving). Sure, I've chosen whom and which film I think will win tonight. But something tells me my mind will be elsewhere. For a while, anyway.
Until nex time...
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