Imagine you haven’t seen someone in 20 years. Your daughter. Your own flesh and blood. In those 20 years you have heard only small tidbits of news about this person. Your only memories of her are when she was a toddler, little dresses, pink ribbons holding her pigtails, holding your hand for security as you walked together at the zoo. The absolute trust she had in you at that time. The way her beautiful eyes looked at you when she was happy. How she reached for you for comfort when she had skinned her knee and you dried her tears. Gone. Those years cannot be gotten back. You were missing from her life. She has been brought up by her mother, a woman with whom you want nothing to do and another man has acted as her father through many important years. She has her own life. A life that you have had absolutely nothing to do with mainly because of the choices you made and your addiction. Anger. Remorse. Pain. The continuously growing guilt and regret of not being there for her. The baby girl who you remember as a cute 3 year old is now grown into a young woman.
By all accounts you are a complete stranger to her.
There is a knock on your door. You are now face to face with her. Carol. What do you say? Elated by this opportunity this is Bernie’s time to take a chance. To try and begin to repair the damage that he has inflicted. To bridge 20 years of absence. 20 years of regret. 20 years of loneliness.
These are some of the perspectives I am using to portray Bernie.