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I rushed home with the excitement of a teenager waiting for a boy to call... but this just wasn't any boy. This was a man. A man who just might be my father. Where did this feeling come from inside?
If you asked me last year, I would have raised an eyebrow, and lectured you in my way, about how this whole adoption thing just means nothing to me. "I'm an adult", I would say. "Why would I need them, I don't need parents anymore. I had a sperm and an egg donor, and its as simple as that. ғ But sometimes, when feeling brave enough, I would walk to the edge of the cliff of this madness and stare out into its eternal abyss. It was this other mysterious part of who I am... and the only thing I felt was confused, mystified, terrified and broken. I remember sitting alone in our basement, just Chad and I, smoking cigarettes while Chad strummed at his guitar. "I don't know what this is", I would tell him, "and the whole thing just doesn't make sense. How could I actually not know how I feel? There must be something more. But I can't even begin to know what that is". But deep down I knew I would need to climb that mountain. And when the time was right, I would, and I wouldn't stop until I was standing at the summit holding hands with the Sun, and screaming at my demons.
And now I ran home, and rushed through the front door. I kissed my toddler and told my husband he would be calling soon Chad understood, probably more than I did. I went in my bedroom and waited with the door shut, staring at my phone, heart racing. Oh, what have I gotten myself into!
It had been 7 or maybe even 8 years since I had been told the name of my biological father. Not once had I even thought about looking for him. Who would, with all of the terrible lies I had been told. I think my adopted mother may have even delighted in telling me that she believed that my father was also my uncle, in the way that she also spread this information so freely to the public. She told me that she lied, my biological mother did. "She said it was some kid, but I know that is a lie! I know the truth!" she would say. So what was the real story? Was it a teenage tragic love story, like my biological mother said? Or was it a story of perverted twisted incest, like my adopted mother said? There was no room for middle ground.
When I finally decided to look, it was on a whim. I sat at home in front of my computer's keyboard ready to give it a try. Terrified of finding a lie, but deciding, what the hell can I really loose at this point. "B-R-I-G-H-T-S-H-O-E." Nothing. ********. It probably was all a lie, and I'm about to find out that I really am the byproduct of incest. Let me try something else. Maybe the spelling is wrong. B-R-I-G-H-T-S-H-U-E. Bingo!
Suddenly, my phone begins to ring. It's a 305 area code. So foreign is this number. ItŒs him. He's calling. I can feel the forces rushing over me like the heavy pull of water to the ocean before the crash of a tsunami. Don't answer it. Resist. Here I stand at a path that parts in two. One road leads to ignorance, the other to the unknown. Which path should I choose? Its now or never...
In the search results, there is a link to a Facebook profile for a Wayne Brightshue. He's the right age. Looks like he is from the right area. Could this be it? It couldn't be that easy. It all just fell into my lap. The profile picture, does he resemble me? Chad tells me he does. A wave of emotions that I don't recognize, are flooding my soul. I stare at the picture longer. How long is too long? I don't want to feel creepy. Turn the computer off. Turn it back on. Could this be it??? Okay, I've come this far, now I want the truth. Friend request sent. Now I'll send a message. Surely this man will help me to clear things up.
"Hello, my name is Kim and I live in Beaver County. I was born on December 30 1981, and I was given up for adoption. Recently I was reunited with my birthmother, Barb (maiden name Barb Wyke). She tells me that she met my father in the children's home in New Brighton, his name is Wayne Brightshue, and he has no idea of my existence. So I google searched the name, and I found your Facebook profile. So I was wondering if you were ever in the children's home in New Brighton?"
Send.
Now I have to laugh out loud. What man will ever walk in to this with a smile on his face. He's going to definitely want to know what I'm after. He will probably be defensive. I will just tell him the truth. I don't want anything from him. Only answers. Only the truth. And I will promise to leave him alone after that. What reason do I have to bother him, after I know the truth?
I think the moment that I decided there was something to this biological family business was really the moment that I laid eyes on my very first real, genuine biological, 100% family member҅ My daughter. A few years later, sitting in a marriage counselors office, I glanced to the book shelf, and stumbled across a book on the shelf. I felt drawn to it. The Primal Wound. "You should read it", the therapist told me. It took me three days, and I cried through most of the words. I decided maybe I should take my biological mother up on her offer to get to know her a little better. . and to know myself a little better.
The next day, I got my response on Facebook. "Here we go", I thought. But it was not any response I expected. And it threw me off my guard. A response that changed my life, and became a part of who I am, forever entwined into the fibers of my being. "Yes I do believe that was me...and hello my daughter". The response left me pale like a ghost, the blood drained from my face, and my arms. IҒm a deer in the headlights , and Im frozen. Now what?!?! And where will this take me?
I take a deep breath and answer the phone. "Hello҅" A few minutes of small talk, and then he makes a joke. I laugh. And then he says, "Wow. You have my laugh. " Your laugh? Wasn't it my laugh? Not anymore. Now I am falling into you. And I'm feeling like a child spinning in a field of flowers. Souring through a sky of sandcastles on the clouds. I'm completely lost in a sea of fog, never knowing what's around the bend. And the best part is, I have his laugh.