To the Unknown Father

The world expects a man

to lead and protect.

After all, some say

he is the stronger of the two.

A man is supposed to care, to love—

with the expectation

that he’ll one day start a family.

People of all kinds

stress the importance of being a man,

grooming him to become

a provider, a teacher.

And on the appointed day,
he rose to the occasion:
found a woman to love—
and to build a life with.

Not long after,

a son is born—

the proud joy of that strong man.

All is well;

emotions run high

for a time.

But then,

everything begins to fade.

What was once joy—

the proudest day of that man’s life—

turns to sadness,

and perhaps regret.

Oh, my life…
 my freedom… gone.

This son is a burden

too heavy for my strength to bear.

And one day, he decides:

the weight is too much.

Out the door he goes.

I’ll start again, he reasons.

Maybe I’ll do better next time.

A profound loss

settles in the son’s heart,

as the years pass

in silence and wonder.

Was it my fault?

Or was the man never strong—

not like they said—

crushed beneath the weight

of too many expectations?

Now that son is a man.

A father.

With a son of his own.

It took him some time to understand:

it was never his fault.

It was the weakness

of that man—

the unknown father.

Copyright © 2025 by Edward Ortiz

“Bittersweet: a tendency to states of longing, poignancy, and sorrow; an acute awareness of passing time; and a curiously piercing joy at the beauty of the world.” – Susan Cain

I have spent many years feeling that something was missing in my life. Earlier this year, I read a wonderful book that opened my eyes and heart, sending me on a journey of reflection—thinking about the things I miss or wish for.

Of course, the journey continues as I work through the things that are lost or unattainable. This poem—really just an attempt to make sense of my past through words—is my way of naming those things that are missing and that have caused me so much sadness.

Life is beautiful, of course, and must continue, fueled by the love of those who are with me.   

75 thoughts on “To the Unknown Father”

  1. Oh, my goodness, Edward. My heart breaks for little boy Edward, and my spirit lifts as I read of your awareness now that it was never your fault. Your son is a lucky young man to have you for a father. Blessings to you and your family.

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  9. This is such a poignant, heartfelt poem! If it’s any consolation, my father never wanted the burden of a family and felt trapped. He stayed with my mom until she died, but he never let us forget how he felt. He suffered from anger and depression and took it out on all of us. I used to wish my parents would get a divorce.

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    1. Thank you, Dawn, but what a terrible experience you’re sharing. I know that’s probably water under the bridge, but still, terrible. I understand those days were different; now people are more free to stay single without too much judgment. Still, I sometimes struggle to understand why men did those things. Then again, there was a lot of societal pressure back then. Thank you for reading and for taking the time to share that part of your life.

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  10. Very compelling, Ed. Interesting because I see the heart of other men in this post. My son died in 2021 at 37. I saw this sadness at times for the things I could not provide as his mother. Thank you sharing.

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  12. “Never his fault”…so powerful, Edward and it tugs at my heart. An epiphany, an awakening, hard-won.
    Bravo, Bravo. A poem that will stick with me for a long time. Thank you. 💝

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  13. Incredible, Edward. Love the way you bring around the healing realization that it wasn’t ever your fault. It’s so amazing to be able to put those things down. Your intentionality for doing fatherhood so differently is inspiring to watch!

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    1. Thank you so much, Wynne. I have to say that working through this and writing about it is hard, but I think blogging is helping. Seeing how you and others in the community write about your experiences has given me a path to follow. Fatherhood, and motherhood, as you are also intentionally doing, is difficult but so fulfilling. Taking care of these little humans is a big responsibility and an honor. Sadly, many do not want to take on this tremendous responsibility and decide to bail out so they can stay in their own childhood phase.

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      1. Childhood phase — that was exactly what I was thinking when I read your poem, Edward. I find that writing about it helps tremendously as well. It’s so vulnerable — but healing.

        Difficult but fulfilling. You’re right about that! So grateful to be in this community with you, Edward!

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  16. Isn’t it interesting how creative expression helps us process inner struggles and traumas?! Your poem is a clear example of this. It’s full of emotion, reasons, and acceptance. This point in particular touched my heart, for it was also in my mind for many years: “Was it my fault?
” I understood later that it was beyond me. I was part of the situation, but not as an active element. I was just a passive taker of unresolved people’s stuff, who were having their own lessons and opportunities to grow. Thank you, Edward, for this beautiful poem and profound reflection. Lots of light and blessings your way, my friend, on this day and always! ✨🙏

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    1. It’s definitely interesting, and I was surprised to find myself using creative writing to work through my feelings. Never in a million years did I think I would be expressing myself this way. Thank you, and blessings, my friend. 🙏🏼

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  20. Thank you for including us in this journey of self realization expressed in your poem. Every generation we attempt to add a few more bricks of strength the previous did not have. You have looked at the past and what was missing for you and have decided to act differently from your own father. That is an amazing journey. Congratulations.

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  21. Such a thoughtful poem Edward. It pulls on the heart. I think the thing I love best about it is the honesty. The authenticity. It’s raw and real. And of course, it makes me want to scream, damn right it’s not the son’s fault. It’s the unknown fathers! Thanks for sharing with us. And thank you for the recommendation on Bittersweet. It’s been on my list. I really need to read that. I suspect it will pull much out of me. 😎

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      1. You’re so very welcome, Edward and I’m honored by you words. You are navigating the ride so well with your discovery that it was and never will be your fault. Unfortunately, most kids think it is their fault which stays tucked inside until it is teased out by truth. I know this journey all too well and fortunately, the wounds heal. xo 😘

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  25. You have expressed your pain and humanity beautifully and powerfully in your poem, Edward. However you have done it, you have found a strong, solid path forward through that pain, providing emotional support to others as well as to yourself. Sending hugs.

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  27. Your vulnerability is brave, Edward. Almost all of us have a share of buried darkness. The best possible life then becomes how it whether we address it. It sounds as though you are on the right road. Best of luck.

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    1. Thank you very much for your comment, Dr. Stein. It’s really hard, and it takes time to change the old mindset, to stop keeping things inside and living life as if everything were normal. Bringing things out from darkness into light is a much healthier option, and it’s helping me heal faster.

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      1. You are welcome, Edward. The world certainly isn’t normal as compared to its state for those of us who got used to life after WWII. I’m not sure if that was your meaning, but it might apply both to person demons and the state of the world.

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