Viewpoint by Keisha McDuffie/ne news editor

I’m just now making my resolutions. It’s not that I don’t have many vices to address; I’m just realistic (or try to be).

After two close emotional experiences, I am making a resolution to my family and friends; allow me to go back.

A week before Christmas, my biological father died.

I may sound impersonal, but all he did was donate to the making of my life and to my four half-siblings, 19-42, from five women.

Two men I did not know blocked me from going into his ICU room. His girlfriend stood over him, blocking his view.

The men said he didn’t want to see me, but later my sister said he didn’t know I was there.

With finals and hard feelings, I opted to wait until I was free of academic stress to attempt to see my dying father again.

Schools closed for the holiday break Friday; I had an anxiety attack Saturday.

On Monday, I called to double check his room number, but I was told no patient by that name was there.

When I called my father’s representative, he said my father had died at 3 p.m. Saturday; his memorial was set.

The sirens began alarming my entire body that my real father, the man who was never there, the man who didn’t want any of his five creations would never be more than a stranger and a soulless face.

I didn’t attend his memorial. I didn’t need comfort from people I didn’t know. But I will always regret not telling him: “I loved you; it’s OK. I’m OK! Thank God, I have a man who filled your shoes. I forgive you.”

My stepdad has been in my life since I was 4 even though he and my mom severed relations when I was 13.

But he hasn’t called me since Father’s Day because of a falling-out. Such fallings-out happened frequently because he’s an alcoholic, but this time I vowed to neither apologize for nor excuse his actions. I never expected his pride to keep him away for nearly a year, though.

What will efface pride every time? A near-death experience. I love and consider my stepfather my father.

When he didn’t call for almost a year, I told myself many times, “Be a bigger person. It’s his wrong to make right. Break the ice.”

Receiving a “bad news” call Friday, I imagined my unruly puppy escaping from the yard. Never did I expect “Your father has had a major stroke.”

So this is my resolution: I love you Mom, J.D., Dad, Nanny and Pa, Jess, Mrs. G and C.A.P., T, A, J, C and Ms. T.

No matter what happens, nothing will change the unconditional love I have for my true friends and family; I will never leave mad.