One day, as a teen, I was told that I was not exactly who I thought. I mean I was the same person. But, my DNA was not what I thought it was. My sister was not my whole sister, but half. While this revelation brought up all kinds of questions and things to wonder about and feelings that I didn’t know how to express; it also answered the question of why I always felt as if I didn’t completely belong. After I was told, it was as if I had already always known. I just didn’t know what it was that I knew.
Since that time I have discovered a whole side of my family that I didn’t know before. Well, I did know them but they were family friends growing up. Now I know them as my family. Aunts, Uncles, cousins, a grandma and many other extended members. The ones that I did not know: 2 brothers and a sister are another story. I have now met one of my brothers and a sister. My brother and I are crazy similar. I love him. The thing that saddens me the most is that we didn’t get to grow up together. I feel like we would have had a lot of fun and gotten into a lot of trouble together! My sister is quite a bit younger, in age and even more in maturity. I’ll give her time though. I have yet to meet my other brother, though I really look forward to it. Alaska is very far away and not so easy to get to.
So after 26 years of knowing that I have a biological father out there I finally felt it was the right time to get to know him. It wasn’t something that I just decided out of the blue. This year he has had some health issues. He also lives in the final frontier. He has had to be flown down to Washington a couple times to get the proper care. When I found out he was down here the first time I really struggled to with whether or not I should go visit him. I didn’t want to, but felt compelled at the same time. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I had met him a couple times over the years. I sent him a letter after I had my first son. The letter was a “letting go” for me. I explained that I believed that everything worked out for the best for me. I grew up in a pretty stable home. I was well cared for. I was loved. I also let him know that I forgave him and didn’t hold anything against him. I didn’t want him to carry any guilt for the way things worked out for me and his part in that. I spoke with him on the phone once, while I lay on the couch feeling like death during my 2nd pregnancy. HIs phone call caught me totally off guard. Other than that, no contact.
So, I decided to go see him. I made sure that he was okay with my visit before I make the hour trek. My sister was there, so I would meet her for the first time, adding to the intensity of the experience. It was nice though. She was kind and we had a nice visit. He was, well, he had had a heart attack so not quite at his best. But he was glad to see me. It was awkward and tense. But overall good. I spent a while with him, keeping conversation light. After he went back home we spoke and texted a few times. He got sent back down after another heart attack but I didn’t see him that time.
Fast forward 8 months. My aunt was throwing my grandmother a 90th Birthday Party and I had RSVP’d my attendance, thinking I would go alone. I received a voicemail from my biological father that he would really love it if my family and I would attend, as he would be there and would love to see us all. WOW! That was the first time he had reached out and expressed a desire to make a connection. So we went to the party. I saw a lot of family that I haven’t seen in a long time and met some for the first time. My father got to introduce me to friends and family as his daughter for the first time ever. I believe that was something that he had wanted to do for a long time.
The day after he went back to Alaska after being down for the party he had another heart attack and was flown right back down. This time I went because I wanted to go. I spent the better part of 3 days with him this time, including picking him up from the hospital, showing him our home and taking him to the airport for his flight back. We got to talk a lot during that time, as it was all time spent just the 2 of us. We talked about the past, the way things happened, regrets, and about how much we enjoyed getting to spend this time together at this point. We are making plans to stay in touch. We really want to visit Alaska next summer.
Now that he is back at his home, I am left to ponder the time spent with him, the impact that has had on me and the effects on my family. While it is amazing to feel like the whole picture is coming together, it also creates conflict within me.
I was raised by my mom and my dad. My dad adopted me as a young child and raised me as his own. Life was not ideal. We had our share of ups and downs. But I was safe, loved and provided for. Because I am connecting with my birth father does that minimize my feelings and deep appreciation and respect for my dad? No. Would it appear or feel that way to him and my mom? I don’t know.
Does talking about the situation bring up guilt or other feelings with my mom? I’m not sure.
Growing up, my mom did not want me to know the circumstances of my birth. She went to great lengths to make sure that everyone that did know kept it a secret. Throughout the years we were visited by family friends often (aka: my grandmother, aunt, uncle and cousins). When I was in 6th grade we moved to the same town as another aunt and her family. I spent a lot of time with them. They all knew that they had to keep the secret from me.
I can’t imagine the stress and fear that my mom lived with on a regular basis, wondering if someone was going to slip and let the truth out. My biological father came through our small town often, sometimes with my half brothers. This had to freak my mom out. I think at one point he lived in our small town for a time.
While I do not blame my mom for the way things were handled, I wish it had been done differently. If it were not kept a secret it would have saved her a lot stress and angst. It makes me sad to think of what she must have gone through. And I know that it would have saved me a lot of time wondering and plotting to find ways to get more information. Because even though the truth had come out during my teen years it was still a taboo subject. I felt guilty every trying to bring it up and get any information. Now I know that it was a very painful topic for my mom. as It was a rough time of life for her when she was left as a pregnant teen. I can see why she did things the way she did. She was young, hurt, and scared. I can’t blame her for doing the best she could.
So, here I am. 42 years old. Finally trying to navigate a relationship with my father. My kids and husband don’t really understand the impact it has on me. While I do not want to hide my new relationship I don’t want to broadcast it either (although I kind of do) because I don’t want to cause any pain or sadness for my mom, dad and sister. I want to be as open and honest as I can without causing others pain. I know the cost of keeping secrets. It’s not worth it. I would much rather deal with what is than pretend.
What a mess. Just like when I get home from a trip and my suitcase gets unpacked over a long period of time. So this journey will be.
