I have never seen a picture of my dad

I have never seen a picture of my dad. My mom is an immigrant from South America, and she adapted to Canada very quickly. But the time she had me, immigration was only open to women or minors - single men were not allowed. My dad had flown up to be present for my birth, and then promptly flew back to his home country afterwards. I do not have a relationship with this man, my mom is everything to me. And my mother will never speak of him or show me a picture of him. I don’t know why he did this, and I do not know why he has never attempted to make contact with me. He sent a package with documents recently, and my mom burned them out on the fire pit in our backyard. I was never supposed to know, but I caught her doing it as I was coming out to share in the burning of the papers. I wish I had never seen it happen. It might have been better that way. Why did he do this? Why did he abandon me? And why did he send papers if he was not going to ever want a relationship with me?<br><br>Edit:<br><br>God I have never cried so hard in my life. I knew my mom had a lot of pain, and it has just been me and her through thick and thin. I called my mother and asked her truly, why she was doing this. Why she hid him from me. I told her I was hurt and that I’d like to see a photo of him. She told me that she didn’t have any, everything she had she burned. She burned everything because she wanted to erase the memory of him completely. She said she did it to protect me. She said that he was a cruel and abusive man. That he would often beat her up when she was a child. She was born into poverty in South America, she said that she was seen as nothing but cattle to him. He “bought” her when she was just a teenager. She was a sex trafficking victim. She was so young, she had a baby at 12. She said my father didn’t care for her and left her in a forest, to die. She said she walked for days, burning from the inside out, starving, and freezing. She said she was found by a woman who gave her the opportunity to immigrate to Canada. My mom worked her ass off every day. She worked 14 hour shifts just to make ends meet. Her and I live comfortably in a small house in the Canadian wilderness. She said she left everything behind, and she took nothing but the clothes on her back, and the memories of the man who destroyed her. But she said that I was her everything, and I was simply the light of her life. She told me that her one regret in life was me. She said she wished that she could take back meeting him, being with him, and having me. She said she was so sorry that she couldn’t give me the father I deserved. She told me that she burned the papers because they brought her back to him. It brought her back to him almost every single day, and she wanted to stop hurting so badly. She was crying so hard on the phone, she told me that she was sorry for not being able to be strong for me enough to see me through the pain I was feeling right now. <br><br>I asked her about the baby she had at 12. She said it was a little girl and she had given up the baby for adoption. In the country, the children were simply taken and sold to the highest bidder. She said she cried and was heartbroken when she found out that she couldn’t keep the baby. But she knew that she couldn’t provide for the baby and she wanted it to have a good, happy life. She said she saw the baby off to the airport, and she never again spoke of her. But she had been tracking the baby and she knew where she was and what she was doing with her life. She said that the baby was living a very happy life, and she was very proud of the woman the baby had become. She told me she had many regrets, but she was at peace with that one. She said that my half sister was doing very well, she was lovely, she lived happily with her husband and their three children on a farm. She said that she was happy that I had siblings to grow up with, cousins on her side of the family and the siblings on my dads side. My mom said she was sorry that she never told me about my dad, or my half sister. She told me that I deserved to know about it, but she didn’t want to hurt me. She said she was afraid of hurting me, because she had already failed me as a mother in many other regards. But she said she was happy I called her, she told me that she needed to hear my voice tonight. <br><br>She said that she was an immigrant too, but my father was much younger. He was also an immigrant, but he was a bad man. She said he was not the same as her. She said he was a criminal, and he was a gang member who spent his days performing crimes and his nights in prison. She said she had no contact with him for many many years. She said many years after she left him, he attempted to make contact with her, but she had already left the country. She said she was grateful that she was able to escape him. She told me that she was grateful for me, and she was grateful that she had been able to take revenge on him, by taking away the most valuable thing to him. She said that she took away the only thing that he truly loved, and that was my life. She said that she did it to protect me, but she fully understood if I was mad at her or upset. And that she would fully understand if I never wanted to talk to her again. She told me that she was sorry. Sorry for never telling me that my father was a monster. She said she was sorry that I was coming from a bloodline with such evil monsters. She said she was sorry that she could never provide the life that I deserved. And that she used to frequently think about killing herself so that I could live better, with a better mother. She said that she was sorry that she did not work hard enough. She told me that she was sorry that she lied to me. She said that she never meant to hurt me, and that I was everything to her. She said that she would do anything to protect me and make me happy. She told me she would do anything to heal my pain and to make things right again. She said she would do anything, anything at all, to be forgiven by me.<br><br>I told her I forgave her, and that I understood. I told her that I did not need a photo, but I needed her. She said that she would come home immediately, and that she would be waiting for my call whenever I was ready to talk again. She said that she would never again leave my side, and that I would never have to live a day without her again. I told her that I loved her, and she said she loved me too. I told her that she was the best mom ever, and she said that I was the best daughter ever. <br><br>I am so in love with my mom. I am so grateful to be her daughter, and I am so happy to be alive. I am so happy that I am living in Canada, and I am so happy that I have everything that I do. My life is so much better than it would have been if I had been born in South America. I am so grateful to be alive, and I am so grateful to have a second chance at life. I am going to spend the rest of my life making my mom proud.