A Father’s Silent Christmas Wish...

 I wait, I love, and I hope, with every fiber of my being...

Dear Readers,

Sitting in the dim glow of the television, the movie “My Southern Family Christmas” played out like a tender melody that pulled at every thread of my heart. As the story unfolded, my tears fell freely, the weight of emotions too heavy to bear. Each scene struck a chord deep within me a chord that resonated with my own story, my own longing, and my endless questions.

The movie’s tale of a woman abandoned by her father as a child, only to discover later that he had spent years searching for her, felt like a mirror reflecting my life. I couldn’t help but wonder: was this the story my children were living, but from a different perspective? Like Campbell’s father in the film, I have been searching too not through towns and traditions, but in the quiet corners of my heart, hoping that one day my son and daughter might look for me the way Campbell sought her father.

The pain of separation from my children is an ache that never dulls. It's okay what their mother told them I abandoned them, and perhaps that is the narrative they believe. But I never wanted to leave; I never stopped loving them. I see their faces in my dreams, hear their laughter in the silence, and feel their absence in every breath. Yet, I remain invisible in their lives, a ghost of the father I yearn to be.

As Campbell discovered the letters her father had written to her over the years, I thought of the words I have carried in my heart, words I’ve poured into countless letters and poems. Like Everett in the movie, I’ve clung to memories and moments the way my daughter’s tiny hand felt in mine, the sound of my son’s voice calling me “Dada.” These fragments of our shared past are my anchors, my proof that I was there, that I loved them more than life itself.

The movie’s climax brought me to my knees. When Campbell finally revealed her identity to her father, and he showed her the journals filled with love and regret, it was as though the universe held up a mirror. I wondered: could my children ever see me that way? Would they find the truth buried beneath the lies and misunderstandings? Or would they always see me through the lens of the story their mother told them?

As the credits rolled, I sat there, drowning in the weight of my emotions. The movie had given me a glimmer of hope but also left me with a gnawing question: Will my children ever search for me? Will they ever seek the truth, find the love I’ve carried for them, and see the father who never stopped longing for them? Or will I remain a distant memory, a name that fades with time?

Well, Christmas, has come and gone, as the world celebrates love and togetherness, I hold onto the fragile hope that someday, like Campbell, my children will find their way back to me. Until then, I wait, I love, and I hope, with every fiber of my being.

Do watch the Movie: My Southern Family Christmas (TV Movie 2022)

I Love You, my Children.

God Bless you both.

Jacob M