I don't know much about joseph other than he was around when i was younger, I know this by seeing him in pictures when i was little ( about 2 yrs old was the last pic i have seen him in) I don't remember him after that. When I was older and did see him, my mother told me his name is Joe.
Little did I know, that he was my father, I wondered why my mother kept him away/ why he left/why she left. From my understanding he was an alcoholic, he caused my mom to have a miscarriage.( I'm a rainbow baby) The only family member i knew, met and had a relationship with on his side of the family was my grandmother and til this day my aunt.
I never really got to see him as I became older. The last time I remember seeing him is when he came to visit while i was living in the bronx, I was 18 at the time. When he finally arrived, he was cut and bloodied (found out later that he was drunk). My mother took him into the bathroom to clean him up, I went to check to see if he was alright, he looked up and said I'm sorry then my mother closed the door. I didn't see him again until he was in harlem hospital in a coma. Seeing him laying in that hospital bed hooked up to machines asking him to wake up. I don't remember how long after my visit, he died. I don't recall if my mother showed any type of sympathy at all. What I do remember is that i met my brother, a brother I never knew about and about to start my freshman year of college.
Over the years, I found out little bits and pieces about my dad. He was a writer and had written stories. I was given one of his books to finish. I tried for a majority part of my life trying to finish it even though I couldn't wrap my head around what was i suppose to do with so much of the pages missing. He let me know it was ok, and I threw the book away. I feel he became more at peace, but hey I could be wrong. Since his death, this song would play and I would break down. The past couple of times I have heard this song, I felt at peace. I know he checks on me from time to time, trying to give me fatherly advice. I miss him more than I miss my mother. I know he's proud of me no matter what I have done/accomplished.