Growing up with a Single Parent

Life was moving in a smooth fashion until the morning of 1st April 1989. I clearly remember the date as it was the April fool’s day. Daddy came into my room where I was reading out a story for my little sister. He started about how he and mom were not getting along well, which I had noticed but had not considered anything serious since they always had arguments from time to time. He was noticeably soft-spoken and then he dropped the bomb of getting separated. At first I thought he was playing a prank on me and my sister, but when he started crying profusely, I understood that something was terribly wrong.

I was awe-struck, I had never seen him crying and here he was sobbing like a child in front of me. He told us that mummy was moving away to another city where she was getting married to one Mr. H. after the divorce between them was final. I was very annoyed with my mother and felt cheated in the affection showed by her in the last 9 months. I had witnessed some real bad arguments and door slamming for the last two months but I was too small to analyse it.

My younger sister was to go with mom, since she was too small and more attached to mom. Moreover, it was tough for daddy to take care of both of us. So I was losing both my sister and mom at the same time.

Mom’s departure was planned for the 16th of the month. It was very well planned and dealt with. I remember it was a Sunday and as usual Dad had taken me to the church. Mom had stayed behind since my sister was not well. When we returned, my mom had left along with my sister. Her stuff too had gone and the housekeeping lady had done a good job in making the house look as normal. I am still grateful to my dad for handling the situation so thoughtfully without the messy moving-out scenes.

I was very angry with my mother and did not speak to her for almost 2 years. My father and I came very close as we both helped each other to cope with the pain. My dad took me out often to the club and everything went on normal. But destiny had planned something else for us.

Dad fell in love with a woman whom he had met in the club. She was 10 years younger than him and had bright red hair which I thought looked obnoxious. Things changed from bad to worse after she moved in with us. She had grabbed my dad’s entire attention and I was left alone with my story books.

It was not that Dad and Debby (her name) lived happily ever after. Debby was an ambitious girl who wanted to do big in modelling and wanted dad to support her financially. Dad wanted her to give up her modelling and do something else since it required too much of money investment. They had constant fights over it and most of the time she left the house in anger only to be back after a few days.

I started staying in my room as these daily fights had started frustrating me. It started reflecting in my grades at school and finally one day I dropped out. Dad was heart-broken. He blamed himself for my poor performance. But there was little he could do. Debby knew exactly how to tackle men like dad and dad gave in to her ultimately every time they had a fight.

At 16, without the required guidance of my parents I was soon into drugs and alcohol. Initially dad gave me the money I demanded, (I think he felt guilty for messing up my life) but when he found out about my drugs he stopped financing me. I took to stealing to fulfil my drug demands and soon I was so caught up in it that I had to be sent for a therapy.

I stayed at the therapy centre for almost 8 months and when they were convinced that I was fully cured, I was allowed to come back home. Debby had gone out of dad’s life till then. May be she had come to realise that dad was not the man for her.

Meanwhile, dad enrolled me for snooker classes after my return since he knew I was good at it at school. I too wanted to do something meaningful with my life and hence I took the classes seriously. Soon I was taken in as a trainer by the same club, where I started training young children. At 18 I earned my first salary which Dad and I celebrated with utmost grandeur.

Now, I am almost 28 and I have a snooker training centre of my own. Though I have forgotten and forgiven most of the incidents of my childhood, yet there are days when I sit down and brood over it. I regret missing the important part in a child’s growing up process where he or she needs the support of the parents the most. Though my childhood was full of turmoil, I am happy that it was back on track at the right time. I am still unmarried and I think I will stay this way after what I have seen with my mom and dad’s experience.

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