A Bracelet With a Name on It

All my life I had this bracelet. I looked at it occasionally and found myself wondering why I was looking at this silver men's bracelet. It was small for a man in my opinion. The name "Craig" was embroidered on the outside of this bracelet. The name Craig was stuck in my head since childhood. It was the name of someone evil, someone I have no memory of. The name Craig was my father.

I was born in Anaheim, California in late July of 1975. It was just me and my mom and dad. But I don't even remember anything about my dad. I really wished I had some sort of memory of him. I mean, who doesn't want memories of both of their parents?

It wasn't until I was around thirteen or fourteen years old when I began to wonder why my last name was different than my mom. When my parents got married I took my dad's last name, apparently. Remembering back then, I can recall many times my friends in school would always ask me why I had two different last names. I used my mom last name in general, like on school papers or for writing letters to friends and family but when it came to important things like taking a serious test I had to write my dad's last name. That confused a lot of my friends. Not being able to explain it myself, I felt embarrassed to even ashamed because I didn't have an answer for them.

The first time I actually asked my mom about my dad, we were walking into a gymnasium to watch a high school volleyball game. I honestly didn't know what to say, so I just blurted out, "Who's my dad?" My mom simply replied as she pointed to this tall skinny man walking with us to the gym. "Bruce is your dad," is all she wanted to say. Of course, Bruce is my dad. He is my stepdad. He is the only dad I remember. I love this dad. No one wanted to say anything more. And I didn't press it any further at this point. I mean, what can I really say? I was only thirteen, I didn't know anything about my dad, but I also didn't want to upset my mom, either.

I figured there had to be a good reason that my mom and stepdad didn't want to let me know what happened or where my father was. It was like a Scooby Doo mystery! But I was part of the gang looking for clues to see who my dad was. Most kids during the late 1980s are busy listening to pop music and MTV. Mall shopping and gossiping. I guess I was lost in my own little world wondering about my personal life. I think at the time I was so preoccupied with finding out who my dad was that I forgot to be a thirteen-year-old girl in school. So I did what any other teenager would do, I guess. I gave up. I left it alone, for now.

So a couple years passed by. I enjoyed my teenage years. Yes, friends still asked about my two last names, but not as much as they did in the years prior. I think in the upcoming years I was in, the more serious thing was more important than my personal two last name mystery! Things like BOYS! And makeup and Saved By the Bell. Mind you, I was into those things also. Totally! It's what helped me get through another couple years.

One afternoon after school I went into my mom's closet looking for some jewelry to wear for when I went out. In this little jewelry box way in the back of the closet on a shelf, I found some really nice jewelry. And something else... a bracelet. I had found a bracelet with a name on it. I found a bracelet that the name "Craig" was embroidered on...

Who is Craig, you ask? Craig... was... my... father...

To be continued....