I turn 40 this month. And for a large majority of my life, I believed my biological father was dead. The details were hazy, the story somewhat off. It wasn’t a story my mother wanted to share with me. She was raising me as a single mom with a strong assist from her family, and I could tell that my queries into my paternity weren’t really something she was eager to share. So I just accepted that I was fatherless. I let go of the idea of someday finding the man who gave me half my genes. I would never know where I got my oddly shaped nose, or why I am tall while the family I grew up in were all lacking in height.
But the questions always lingered, there in the back of my mind. What if he were alive? Could I find him? Would he want me to? Would he want to know he had grandkids? I had medical questions as situations in my life came up and I wondered if they were genetic.
A few Sunday’s ago, on a lark, I went to psychic party. You know the kind, a psychic is hired to do readings for everyone who comes to the party at a reduced rate. So I went, paid my $30 and sat for my reading.
I got some vague information about my spirit animal and my personality traits. She asked if I had questions. I asked about my father. She sat there a minute and looked at me intently and then said, ‘I don’t think he’s on the other side. I think he’s alive’. A little spark jumped to life inside me. Could that be true?
I pondered this that evening. I decided that I’d fire up the Google and do some investigating. I hadn’t done it before, because, well I thought he was gone.
BAM! There he was. Alive. Living within 50 miles. And I possibly have some younger siblings.
And I am terrified. I don’t know what to do. I have so many questions. None about why he wasn’t a part of my life, but just about his life. His family, his ancestry. I want nothing. Just information. I don’t even necessarily want a relationship. Just a conversation. But I don’t know what to do. Do I send a letter, explaining that I just want a conversation?
And what if I do meet him and he’s a total D-bag and I spend the rest of my life kicking myself for being curious?
I don’t anyone to get hurt. I don’t want to drudge up anyone’s past that they’d rather forget. But sometimes, there are questions that need answers. And sometimes, only one person can answer them.