Who is my Father?

The Life of the World, a blog about Orthodoxy

1957579_10152635393527538_1004547196_n This is a guest post.

Growing up, I had a pretty rough childhood. Around age 7, my mother and father began a long, heated and very bitter divorce. At first I was too young to realize what was going on behind the scenes with my parents, but I began to catch on very quickly to the anger, hatred and hurt between them, especially from my mom. In time, my father moved out.

As a child I do not remember ever seeing my parents kiss or show any kind of love or affection for each other in front of us. They always seemed somehow distant from each other. The only displays of love I saw were from my mother, who was a stay-at-home mom, always cooking, cleaning, gardening, mowing, then catering to my father once he came home from work. My father never seemed to want much to do with my…

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