Today, the day after the cards and ties and hugs have been exchanged, I'm still left feeling a little empty. Father's Day is now a difficult holiday for me to be jubilant about because now there are more questions than answers.
When I was born, I had a father. Just one. As shitty as he was to me, he was my father and later on became the representation of what a man isn't supposed to be. Every Father's Day, I'd make him a construction paper card with all the love in the world, even though he showed much less than that love back to me. He usually wasn't around to get the cards, but my mom would take them and promise me that he'd get them. It wasn't until about 3 years ago that I found her collection of cards that she stashed away. The cards all had "Return to Sender" marked on them. At least she tried.
Then my mom got remarried. My stepfather was and still is everything my father could never be. I understand now the meaning of a daddy's girl. That's me. He's my daddy, and many people don't realize that he's not my father. That's how tight we are. Every Father's Day he's there appreciative of whatever gift he receives, even if it's just a phone call. He's held my hand as I go from being under the watchful eyes of him and my mom to standing on my own two feet. It's been hard to experience my loyalty shifting from my father to my daddy. He's my forever rock, and I'll always be his little girl. The youngest. The baby. That's my daddy.
Then it hit me a few weeks ago. Everything I experienced with my father growing up may have been in vain. I ran across a medical report of his from before the divorce while I was cleaning at my mom's house. The blood type didn't match what I've been told my whole life. I asked him about it a few days later, and he confirmed what the report said. I'm a biology nerd at heart, so I went back and re-read my genetics notes and my heart sank. His blood type plus my mother's blood type can't produce mine. Not possible. That lead me to think about a close "friend" my mom would bring around after her and my father got divorced. He was the closest thing I had to a dad between the ages of 3 and 5. Birthday gifts and hugs, trips to the circus and cotton candy. Later on I found out that he was her high school sweetheart, they had planned on getting married. He was also her "confidant" while she was going through the mire with my father. She would retreat back to NYC and hang out with him for the weekend. And him and I have the same blood type. Her blood type plus his could produce mine.
His daughter and I look so much alike it's scary. He referred to me as his little one a few times that I can remember. I wish I had a better answer, but I don't. He died the day before I started 6th grade due to a bad asthma attack. I have a hat of his, and his mother gave me his favorite pair of winter gloves. I'm tempted to do the DNA test, but that might make everything too clear. Answers to my questions would simply beget more questions. I'm not sure if I'm ready to know if my father is really that nice guy I considered an uncle. I'm not sure if I'm ready to consider the idea of my mother lying to save face. I'm not sure I feel like continuing my thoughts about this...
When I was born, I had a father. Just one. As shitty as he was to me, he was my father and later on became the representation of what a man isn't supposed to be. Every Father's Day, I'd make him a construction paper card with all the love in the world, even though he showed much less than that love back to me. He usually wasn't around to get the cards, but my mom would take them and promise me that he'd get them. It wasn't until about 3 years ago that I found her collection of cards that she stashed away. The cards all had "Return to Sender" marked on them. At least she tried.
Then my mom got remarried. My stepfather was and still is everything my father could never be. I understand now the meaning of a daddy's girl. That's me. He's my daddy, and many people don't realize that he's not my father. That's how tight we are. Every Father's Day he's there appreciative of whatever gift he receives, even if it's just a phone call. He's held my hand as I go from being under the watchful eyes of him and my mom to standing on my own two feet. It's been hard to experience my loyalty shifting from my father to my daddy. He's my forever rock, and I'll always be his little girl. The youngest. The baby. That's my daddy.
Then it hit me a few weeks ago. Everything I experienced with my father growing up may have been in vain. I ran across a medical report of his from before the divorce while I was cleaning at my mom's house. The blood type didn't match what I've been told my whole life. I asked him about it a few days later, and he confirmed what the report said. I'm a biology nerd at heart, so I went back and re-read my genetics notes and my heart sank. His blood type plus my mother's blood type can't produce mine. Not possible. That lead me to think about a close "friend" my mom would bring around after her and my father got divorced. He was the closest thing I had to a dad between the ages of 3 and 5. Birthday gifts and hugs, trips to the circus and cotton candy. Later on I found out that he was her high school sweetheart, they had planned on getting married. He was also her "confidant" while she was going through the mire with my father. She would retreat back to NYC and hang out with him for the weekend. And him and I have the same blood type. Her blood type plus his could produce mine.
His daughter and I look so much alike it's scary. He referred to me as his little one a few times that I can remember. I wish I had a better answer, but I don't. He died the day before I started 6th grade due to a bad asthma attack. I have a hat of his, and his mother gave me his favorite pair of winter gloves. I'm tempted to do the DNA test, but that might make everything too clear. Answers to my questions would simply beget more questions. I'm not sure if I'm ready to know if my father is really that nice guy I considered an uncle. I'm not sure if I'm ready to consider the idea of my mother lying to save face. I'm not sure I feel like continuing my thoughts about this...
11 Comments:
WOW.. I'm speechless.. well if you ever need an ear.. I'm here
Just my two cents, but, for your own sanity, you probably should have the test.
If it was me, I'd rather know 'the truth' than wonder.
WOW..that's alot to have on your head...I can't say that I know how you feel...but personally the man that raised you is your daddy...hands down..he's been there for you and it doesn't matter if blood is involved or not.
Knowing wouldn't change that you know the man whose been there for you all these years. As we all know Blood doesn't make a father or a daddy
Have you considered asking your mom about it? It may be an uncomfortable conversation, but maybe she would be open to discussing it. If you have a sister don't you have a right to know?
That is a massive revelation. I agree with Miz JJ that a conversation with your mother could be what is needed. I hope you get everything sorted out the way you feel best.
Good Luck with everything and if you do decide to do the test, even more luck is wished your way from me.
Wow - this is very interesting.... I agree with about the conversation with your mother BUT only if you are ready. You have to be ready, but you also have to be ready for what your mother may tell you..
I'm sure she will have a difficult time telling you more than you think.. I don't know.. I hope you get through this though... Quite a revalation.
Man! This is deep. The other ladies are right, maybe talking to your mom about it when you're comfortable might not be such a bad idea.
i second every comment made about the conversation with your mom.
i certainly wish the best for you and believe that whatever the answer is, you will be able to accept it and continue to move on with your life.
hugssss,
D.C.
WOW. I agree with everyone..talk to your mom.
Hope everything works out for you.
Wow, Tasha.
Just, wow.
Give a shout if you feel like talking.
GF
do the test. and talk to your mom.
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