Dear Jeffrey Mark Spencer
I thought I could forget you
The empty parking lot at Irvings and missed phone calls long forgotten
It even became a joke to us
We pass by the designated pick up stop where we would wait for hours for you to show up
We now say “oh! Daddy isn't here again!”.
This time, without the tears
That's what the idea of you use to be, a joke.
Now college is approaching, and once again
Your fuzzy figure has come back into focus
But there's forms for you to fill out
My “biological father” must fill out
My “non custodial parent” must fill out
Or how I like to phrase it, the ‘sperm donor’ must fill out
Again, my memory of you has resurfaced when it is so crucial that you shouldn't
Ive proven time and time again that i've gotten so far without you, but now i need to work extra hard to get into my schools of choice because once again, the slack you've dropped
I have to pick up
The situation is a grey area
We don’t have a restraining order
There are no legal documents stating that you cannot see us
No, it is solely on your part that we don’t see you
Your sorry excuses
Even the court shed a tear with your act
How do I explain my situation?
Oh, it’s simple, really
My dad decided to up and leave us
Every weekend visit turned into every other weekend
Every other weekend turned into biweekly
Biweekly visits turned into monthly
And monthly turned into you never seeing us again and only calling to wish Emma a happy 21st birthday a month late
She was 19.
I, however, am not graced with false birthday wishes
In fact, mom told me you never even considered me your child
Your girlfriend put some shit in your head
Mom had an affair? I don’t look anything like you?
Tell that to the crystal blue eyes you gave me that have wasted tears on your actions
And yet, you refused the paternity test
Yeah, wouldn’t wanna shatter your pride after you’ve spewed that shit out loud
Don’t worry, you didn’t have any left after you left us
How are your kids?
Jeffrey and Savannah, right?
Do they remember us from the small visits we had?
How old are they? I have to put that on the forms too
Do you know how old I am?
I have an inkling that you do,
You’ve been counting down the months until I turn 18
That measly $61 a week will finally be yours to keep
Now, as I’m filling out these waivers
Im realizing just how much I dont know about you
Had to ask mom how to spell your name
What was his middle name again? Mark?
Phone number? Unknown
City? State? Zip code? Unknown
Nothing. I don’t know shit
Now, as i write your name on these pages
I get a sick sense of familiarity when I see we still share the same last name
You’re still attached, dangling from a scrawny thread
Spencer; the name I write every day on my school papers
The same name my mother took on your two’s wedding day
The same name Emma got
The same name I got
The same same name I’m writing down on these waivers to signify that your position in my life is insignificant enough to not regard you as an actual parent
You, Jeffrey Mark Spencer, are irrelevant
You, are a joke.