I've been looking for my natural father for 20 years. Tonight, a very nice man called me because he received my letter. He was the last one on the list. I've eliminated every single man with his name in the nation...except for him.
And it wasn't him.
We spent a good half hour on the phone. He relayed a wonderful story about how the letter wound up in the hands of his daughter and her husband, who live in he and his wife's old house. She saved the letter and gave it to him and his wife over dinner when they came down to visit. She said, "Dad, are you SURE it's not you?" She was so sad that it wasn't. She always wanted a sister. And he said they would have welcomed me into the family.
He even gave me history on his uncommon family name. Where the family came from, the rare papers he's acquired, stories from their family lineage. Because the last name is so uncommon, we probably ARE related somehow.
He COULD still be part of "my people"...distantly.
He wished me the best of luck. Said he was sorry.
It's over. My search is finally over.
And I'm a fucking wreck. I need a few bottles of wine to dull the pain.
But...oh yeah. I have a job interview in the morning. Time to suck it up and be a responsible adult.
But I miss my father. And I will never know him.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
11 comments:
Oh, sweetness. I am so sorry. This is SUCH a heartbreak. I wish I could turn back time and find him for you. I wish I could wave my magic wand and poof! this search would be over. I hate to see you aching like this. If there is anything I can do? Just say the word. Have FasTrak, will travel. Even to your turf. Hugs to you. Miss you.
I'm sorry for you too. I remember how frustrating it was trying to find Rachaels father, and I knew half the family. I wish things would have turned out differently for you. (((HUGS)))
Thanks guys. This has hit me particularly hard for some reason. I think it's because I know it really is the end this time, and I have a hard time dealing with the injustice of it all. It has been a long, hard road. And I was so sure this guy was it. But based on circumstances, there is no way. I have been trying to suck it up, and my friends have been wonderful these past couple of days. But it feels like part of me has died. I so desperately wanted and needed to find my father.
Julie, I miss you too. I wish I could run off to Boston with you. Let's have a sleepover when you get back. Screw this driving home stuff. I just need to get drunk.
I finally read this. It took me a while because I couldn't stend the thought that your father hurt you. I don't know what to say. I was so sure that you found him. Am I forgetting something? There has to be something missing. What is it that I can't remember or am remembering wrong? I want so badly for you to find him and find the missing half. The music came from somewhere and it wasn't tone deaf me. I was a stupid girl but but not that stupid. Was I lied to or am I lying to myself? I wish I knew. You deserve the truth. I will keep working on trying to remember anything.
ok, so maybe i'm just feeling adopted, but i don't understand the fuzzy rat's comment.
how do you avoid another person's pain? i don't get it.
if i knew irish was carrying a 100 pound weight, and i was in a wheelchair, i would likely not be able to share in the burden. i would not know how to help her carry such an amount.
i would feel guilty for being wheelchair bound and not be able to pull my half of the weight.
but even if i couldn't, i would surely offer to take at least 20 pounds in my lap. i would offer to bring a bottle of wine to share when it's done. i would provide witty commentary and do wheelies in my wheel chair to provide comic relief while she took a breath and cursed herself for agreeing to carry the !@# weight to begin with.
i would even find a day laborer and pay him to carry the bloody thing himself.
but that's me. i'm adopted. i'm constantly worried that i'm not enough, that i can always do more, that i need to prove my worth.
and most of all, i take on the role of caretaker with my friends, because i am lacking that kind of presence in my own life. it's what i crave most of all in this life.
anyway, i'm not trying to start a fight, i just don't understand.
To Fuzzy Rat,
After reading your comments and lack of responsibility, I think you are being dishonest with yourself and with your daughter. She deserves so much better than the scraps of information regarding her heritage. You are extremely lucky that she continues to communicate with you. How much more pain and embarrassment will you let her go through before you "remember" who her father is? My heart goes out to you, Fuzzy Duck, as you continue on your quest for your roots.
Hmmmm I think Fuzzy Rat deserves a little more compassion, it honestly sounds like she is trying... Memory is a funny thing, especially when it involves something so painful. I cannot remember my caseworker's name, no matter how I try. I can't see her face, even after I spent months with her, yes a little PTSD, I suppose... Obviously this mother is trying, it's hard, and painful.
Fuzzy Duck, I am so sorry, I know how hard this is on you...
(((((Hugs))))) to both of you!
I'm sorry fuzzy duck. I wish you had more answers.
I'm so sorry you are going through this fuzzy duck. You deserve to have answers. Hugs xoxoxo
Haven't heard from the two of you since this last post, hope all is well.
Kristy
Thanks for checking on us. Things are difficult at best at the moment. We are trying to work things out, but I'm not sure exactly what that means at the moment. It may be a while before anything gets posted here again. But thanks for your concern :)
Post a Comment