The Stranger

I remember some time back in the 90's,
This old brown house down Rozzelles Ferry,
Red dirt in the front yard, with a cinch of grass,
As far as I knew it was my first time there,
Unfortunately my last.

My daddy said it was my great grandma house,
That's who the wheelchair ramp was for,
When I asked him who everyone else was, he didn't know,

Another old man came out to speak,
Dark brown skin, and slight crooked front teeth,
He was my grandfather.

I was so confused.

My daddy said that was his dad.
Well why I ain't never seen him before?
My daddy said one day he just didn't show up anymore.

All these years and he really was alive,
The nerve of him not to love my daddy,
Fast forward 20 years, right after my Uncle Leroy passes...
This dude dies.

I never even knew his name,
Until I read his obituary,
My daddy opted out of attending the funeral,
If he was dead to him, he was dead to me.
He missed out on a chance to love my daddy,
What kind of man screws up that type of opportunity??

I was furious.

I've never seen my daddy cry, until that day,
We buried my Uncle, as his dad was laid to rest cities and miles away.
I couldn't help but wonder was he sad because of his dad?
Or sad because of my uncle?

He never spoke on it.

Fast forward 5 years,
I am looking for freelance writing opportunities,
When one of my Facebook friends, connects me with a Digsby.

A Facebook memory pops up with the rolling stones obituary,
His name was Eddie Digsby,
Now I have to figure out if this guy I was connected to is family....


He is my 2nd cousin, and we've discussed reuniting my daddy with his siblings.
I can finally meet my biological paternal family.
God be coming through!
Thank you for your grace and mercy, and for keeping my daddy.

My history is no longer a mystery!




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