When my mother told me about my REAL father.....
The day mom told me....
I've explained in other hubs I've written, that I did not know who my father was for most of my life. At 23 years old my mother decided to finally tell me. She called me on the phone one day and said, "We have to talk about something. I don't want to tell you in person so I'll tell you when you get here." The upcoming weekend, my husband and I packed up our two small children and took the hour and a half drive to my mother's house.
When we got there, mom told us to sit down. My younger sister was also there. Mom proceeded to tell me that the man she told me was my father my entire life, wasn't my father. He was my sisters father, but not mine. The first thing I did was jump up and point at my sister and say, "I told you this would happen." I guess I didn't really know how to feel at the time, but I was definitely confused, to say the least.
I asked my mother who he was, but all she could remember was his name. I found that a little fishy since she, on countless occasions, pointed out where everyone in their town lived, back in the 70's. She didn't remember if he had family or what their names were. She wasn't even sure of the spelling of his name.
Long story short (you can read more about them in my other family hubs) a stranger helped me find my fathers family 2 1/2 years ago, my very first day on a new job! It was the craziest and most exciting day of my life! The saddest part of it all, my father had passed away two years prior to the phone call.
This January (two years after I began talking to my fathers family) I had the opportunity to go out to Oregon (from Minnesota) and meet his wife of 30 years and their four children. I'd never been up in a plane, and I'd never been out of my tri-state area. I flew 1,500 miles, halfway across the country, alone. But I didn't feel alone for long.
I had never felt like I'd felt being there in a house with my four brothers and sister and their families. They were so receptive to me, and loving. I was told several times, by their friends and family that I'd met, that I looked just like the family (and my father). It was so endearing, I'll never forget those words. I longed, every moment of my childhood, to have a father, brothers, and maybe even another sister. I got those things, finally.
I sensed a little apprehension from my fathers wife (my step-mother) and my two younger brothers (ages 19 and 23 now). But I don't blame them in many ways. The youngest one has had the hardest time, and the longest amount of time without papa. I think he probably suffers in some different ways than the other kids who had more time with him. But, soon will come the day when I finally get a paternity test. The final moment of truth. Nobody will have room to deny or question again. That, for me, will change my life forever. Even though I felt so "at-home" in Oregon, and have a very tight relationship with my new sister, I need that truth. I need that proof.
I've been through some things over the last decade or so and have been through moments where I just wanted to give up. But I have to tell everyone in the world right now, never give up hope! Granted, I waited a long time for this good news but I'm so glad that I didn't fold like a cheap suit. Good things DO come to those who wait. Granted, I'm still waiting on that test, but the relationship I have emotionally, with my new siblings, is unmatched. There's no way we couldn't be related. But I now know that my life will be happy again. I will be happy again. My children will be happy again. I will be loved again. I have my father around me 24/7 now, that's all I can ask of God. My siblings and step-mother gave me papa's favorite sweatshirt and I can't tell you how much that one small material item of his, has changed me.
I'll be getting that paternity test soon.Wish me luck!
Never give up! Joe Dirt said it best, "you gotta keep on keepin' on".