posted
This won't be nearly as exciting and heartwearming as Dan's saga, or as interesting as Mrs. M's, but if anyone cares to read it, I'd like an opportunity to share what has happened with the reuniting of my father and myself. It will take time to write it all out, I'm just now starting to put it all down, but it will help me to have some people who are reading it, to encourage me to keep at it. So, I'll start if no one objects
Posts: 14428 | Registered: Aug 2001
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May 28th is a tough day for me. My grandfather died on that day, and it takes a lot of prayer and strength to get through it.
It was not the day, then, to introduce another huge emotional event into my life. And yet, as it happens, that was the day I was to meet my father for the first time.
Granted, it wasn’t the actual first time – he did see me when I was seven months old. But since he and my mother parted ways when I was fifteen months old, I have no memory of him. How we got back in touch, and what the effect was on me, of growing up without a father, is recorded elsewhere and no reason to go into all of it now.
We decided to meet at a restaurant. Neutral territory. We were all going to be there, my mother, my husband and four children and myself, and my brother and his family - his wife Kim and their two young children. I had seen pictures of my father Mike, and his wife Donna, so I knew it was them when they began walking toward us.
I panicked, my heart was pounding and I reached for some support from the person closest to me. I grabbed Kim’s hand, she squeezed mine back, trying I guess to lend me the reassurance I desperately needed. It didn’t help.
For a moment we all stood there. My mom broke the ice. She walked forward, gave Mike a hug, and then greeted Donna like she’d known her forever. This had to be a difficult thing for my Mom, she amazed me with her strength.
There were introductions all around, I gave Mike an awkward hug, I gave Donna one much warmer, she and I had talked more often than Mike and I, and she radiated friendliness and welcome. Then I noticed for the first time, a very uneasy, unwelcome feeling.
I could not meet his eyes.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at him to engage with him. That’s not like me, I’m an extrovert who loves making contact, both eye contact, and physical contact. An ENFP, if you’re familiar with the Myers Briggs classifications. But I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t engage with him at all.
The first defense I had was my children. My youngest, Abigail, fell and scraped her knee outside the restaurant, I picked her up and held her to me like a shield. When Kim tried to seat me next to Mike and Donna, offering to move I said no, the kids wanted to sit together and I needed to be with them to make sure no one got in trouble. All night, I wore my motherhood like a suit of armor – “Don’t get close to me, don’t connect to me, I’m busy caring for my children.”
After dinner we went to Mark’s house to sit and talk some more. The kids played upstairs so my shields were gone. I coped the best I could. When I said something to Mike I spoke to his collarbone. When he caught my eye I glanced away.
When we parted, with plans made to meet again tomorrow, I still wasn’t able to look him in the eye. And I still didn’t know why.
Posts: 14428 | Registered: Aug 2001
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posted
I've actually been wondering about how things have gone Belle. I'm pretty curious to read more.
Posts: 16059 | Registered: Aug 2000
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You are an amazing and brave person. Thank you for sharing your journey with us. Keep drawing strength from the people who love you. Your level of comfort with your father is just low right now, but that is to be expected. I am sure things will get better.
Posts: 822 | Registered: Jul 2001
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posted
They came over the next day to spend some time with us before we all had to leave for the dance recital that night. They brought presents.
They obviously don't have experience buying for young children. However, everything was thoughtful. Mike gave me and my daughters all boxes hand painted in Iraq. That was kind of neat, because he didn't know about us when he was still stationed in Iraq, which means he brought the boxes home intending them to be gifts for someone else, and gave them to us instead.
They gave all the girls necklaces. Daniel they gave a wooden fire truck - he really liked it. Fire trucks are always a pretty safe bet for little boys.
Mike read to the twins, and they happened to bring him some of their bible story books to read. He had to ask me how to pronounce Nineveh when reading the story of Jonah, and said "it's been a long time since I was in church." Which I already knew, but he seemed embarrassed by it.
The day passed with an awkward feel to it, until it was time to go to the dance recital. Three of my kids were in it, and so I was busy getting everyone to the place they needed to be, once again I had my Mommy armor in place.
Later that night Wes tried to draw me out and talk to me about it all, but I couldn't really say much. I still couldn't get a handle on why I was so distant. I expected a flood of emotions - i didn't know what kind, but I expected something. I assumed I'd cry, maybe feel angry, maybe feel hurt, maybe feel relieved, maybe feel overjoyed.
But this - this I didn't expect. I felt nothing. I was emotionally dead, I had no connection whatsoever, and no emotional involvement, I just distanced myself from it all. It was very strange, and a little disturbing.
When we parted company with mike and Donna that night, e were to see each other one more time the next day, when we'd celebrate the twins' fourth birthday.
Posts: 14428 | Registered: Aug 2001
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posted
Belle, I have been thinking about you and wondering about the rest of your story. I am sure others are also interested in hearing it if you are up for it.
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