Why I blog...

I use this blog as a kind of therapy. Sometimes I'm happy and want to share it, sometimes it's just a random thought and sometimes it's to deal with things in my past. After all a burden shared is a burden halved

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

The Reason and my CSI moment

Part 2

So the (bio) dad came to visit. I was filled with pre-visit anxiety. I wasn’t sure if he was going to be angry with me for telling his daughters, I wondered if he was going to crap all over me. My boyfriend was beside me all the way and said he would stay with me in case things went pear shaped. (I flipping love this man! So caring and supportive, I would be utterly lost without him). So back to ‘dad’-> I wondered if he was ashamed of me, I mean why else wouldn’t he have told his daughters, they had a right to know…..right?

Was I his dirty little secret? His skeleton in the closet? Or maybe he just couldn’t be bothered with me, just a blast from his past. I didn’t know him well enough to presume what his frame of mind would be at this time, so my own mind ran away with wild assumption.

Then he arrived. He looked exactly the same as he did the last time I saw him, approximately 7 years ago. He told me first off that his daughters were angry with him and their mom to a certain degree. (Uh Oh that can’t be good). They felt as thought they had been lied to their whole life and didn’t much care that this was kept from them. He said the older (and more skeptical) of the two told him he needed to apologize to me (you go sis). -Phew ‘sigh of relief’ Things may not go pear shaped after all. Digressing for a moment-> have you ever wondered why that phrase exists? I mean what’s so wrong with a pear’s shape anyway?

Ok so where was I…..

So (bio) dad apologized and began to explain why he never told them. He said that he had a doubt that he was my father (big shock for me). As we know my mom was a teenager in the 70’s with raging hormones and more than one partner. So when I was 10 (that fateful weekend) he took me for a blood test in the hopes of clearing the matter up. My mom was always quite adamant that he was my father and he just wanted to make sure for his family and his own piece of mind. (fair enough) I do remember going to town with him and having blood taken, at the time of course I had no idea what it was for after all I was 10.

He said that the blood test came back as inconclusive

. He said, all it said was that ‘it didn’t rule out the possibility of parenthood’. This was not convincing enough for him. Then he asked what else he could do to get a more conclusive result and was told he would need to bring mother and daughter into a UCT lab for bone, skin and loads of other such analysis. He felt at the time he could not do that to a 10 year old and so he left it. He explained how he lived with this doubt all of my life (38yrs) never knowing if he really was my father or not.

Stop and think about that for a moment……..Imagine not knowing something as life changing as that for 38 YEARS!!!! ->hectic

I told him he could have come to me at any point and explain this to me, I mean I haven’t been that 10 year old for quite some time and as an adult I would have totally understood. Needless to say I cried a little, and he (lump in his throat and a slight teary look in his eyes) just said, “I know that was my mistake I am sorry”.

So there I had it, the teal reason why he never told them. Of course I understand, but this new found information didn’t really make me feel better. On the contrary… I now felt as though my whole life had a slight question mark to it.

Then he said, “I’m going to ask you to do this one thing for me and if you agree to it, then we will take things form there.” I said “sure what is it?”.

It turns out he had ordered a DNA paternity test kit online and wanted me to take it with him once it arrived. Of course I agreed I mean after all, I didn’t want to live with the ‘not knowing’ a minute longer. So he left and returned a week later with his wife and test kit in hand.

It was quite an easy test really, I was very nervous beforehand and my boyfriend would not kiss me all night until after, for fear of getting his DNA mixed with mine and contaminating the sample. All we had to do was fill in all our information and take a swab of tissue from the inside of our mouths, being careful not to touch the ends of the sticks and placing them in the right envelopes.

Then he left. I received an email a week later saying they were processing the samples and I should have an answer in 3weeks.

Now we wait.

Part 3 –results.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Secret Sister Saga

So as I have stated in a previous blog entry, my mom and my biological dad had a one night fling, which resulted in…….well….me.

As I grew up I knew about my dad from early on, but was never apart of his life nor was he apart of mine. I was curious to meet him and eventually did. After that I met him on occasion and even spent a weekend at his home when I was 10. By then he was married and had two daughters aged 7 and 5 respectively. So being the 10 year old that I was (and desperate for siblings of my own) I blurted out to his daughters on the Sunday morning after spending the entire weekend with them as ‘a child of a friend’, that I was their sister.

Of course they didn’t believe me. They ran to their mom and asked her if it was true, she said I was lying. Further fuelling their disbelief. I now know that she was just protecting. Her daughters who were far too young to cope with the truth. She did promise to tell them when they were old enough to understand. Needless to say that was the last time I spent a weekend at my ‘dads’.

Fast forward 28years I am now 38years old. He has floated in and out of my life about 5 times in total. Roughly every 7 years or so he would pop by for an hour to visit my kids or I would do a ‘drive by” visit to his house. I would pack the kids I the car, drive up to his house, send my son to knock on the door and ask for Mr. so and so and then sit in the car and wait for him to come out (being careful not to upset the wife and kids). He would come over to the car and I would say “look how big your grandchildren are getting”. He would smile and say “hi, I promise to come visit”. But never did.

It never phased me much as I had the most wonderful stepdad. I was truly blessed as my Grandparents were my earliest parental figures until my mom settled down from her wild ways and got married and took over that role. I was given a stepdad who treated me as if I was his own flesh and blood. So it was not like I was lacking in the father figure department.

Years went by and I always wondered why my sisters from my (bio) dad side never contacted me. Surely they would want to meet me? Or my children? (Their nieces and nephew). As much as I wanted to meet them. Apparently not.

Every two years or so I would try and look them up. I did a drive by ‘dads’ house in 2008 only to find he no longer lived there. I had no idea where he lived, no phone number to contact him on. I tried to Google him or his daughters, but I had no idea if they were married and what their new surname would be. I tried Facebook, but that too was fruitless without proper surnames. I gave up and carried on with my life and forgot about them for a while.

2011: In April this year I got a Facebook message from someone with the same surname as him. She said “a friend of mine says we are related”. It turns out she was ‘his’ niece.

Eureka I told her how I was related to her and that I wanted to track down that side of my family. I was totally overjoyed at my new found family member. Through her connection I managed to befriend one of my ‘sisters’ on Facebook. It turned out they had both indeed gotten married and had different surnames. I sent the one who accepted my friend request a private message. Telling her that we were sisters. Of course this was quite a shock for her and she contacted her older sister. The older sister (obviously the more skeptical of the two) messaged me with the “do you have proof to back up your statement?” attitude. I counteracted with “ask your dad”.

Well the next day I received a phone call from said ‘dad’ saying “I need to see you”.

End of part one…