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LJI 10:5 - fear is the heart of love

My husband the photo bomber. #family #siblings #father #bloodgood

L-R - my sister Jolynn, my bio-dad JB, my sister Chris, my brother Patrick, and my husband photo bombing us. Summer 2015


L-R - My sister Jolynn, our bio dad JB, me, my sister Chris, my brother Patrick, and my husband photo bombing our cute family photo. 8/15

I had heard nothing good about my birth father. I knew his first name, knew that he was Swedish, but in all honesty, that was all the information I had that wasn't laced with some sort of anger and pain. He and my birth mother had three children together and kept one - my biological brother, P.

My birth mother, J, had said she wanted to keep my sister but asked me, over the phone, in tears, if I had ever seen or read "Sophie's Choice", and that was why my sister had been adopted. The story she told was devastating. My birth father, J.B, had threatened to throw my brother off a bridge if she didn't give up the new baby.

One night nearly two years ago, I was finally able to summon the energy to give him a phone call. My sister had sent me his phone number in a Facebook IM with a simple message that said, essentially, that he would like to get to know me too, when I was ready.

A girl's first love is supposed to be her father. My relationship with my dad has always been fraught with conflict. He's a realist, I'm a dreamer. He is a far right conservative Christian who proudly voted for Trump and loves Fox News. He is a complete neat freak who wants things just so.

That's not me. I'm a liberal Christian who followed my proudly Democratic maternal grandmother's footsteps. I live in a constant state of chaos and clutter, avoid cable news like the plague, and consider Donald Trump to be a festering sore on America's rear end that we'll be stuck dealing with for at least the next four years.

The only thing we have in common is our faith and our taste in music. I cut my teeth on Dad's LPs of Simon and Garfunkel, CCR, and BS&T.

When I reached out to J.B that cold night in late January of 2015, I was scared to death. I left a rambling, disjointed message saying who I was, leaving my number so that he could call me back, ending with "go Seahawks!" because I had no idea what else to say.

I wanted to have that kind of father-daughter connection with him that I didn't have with my own dad.

I wanted him to be patient and understanding.

I wanted him not to be the kind of person who bragged about his sons when bumping into a high school friend at a pizza parlor but completely ignored his daughter.

I wanted him not to be the kind of person who talked loudly over the phone about my "FLIPPED FINGERS", an OBVIOUS sign of the MILD CEREBRAL PALSY I'd been born with.

I wanted him not to be the kind of person who would threaten to put me into a group home because my apartment wasn't clean enough for his specific standards.

I wanted him to think that I was amazing and wonderful despite the fact I'd been broken time and time again by a well meaning but domineering and condescending father, glued together by my mother's soft words until my father broke me again. And again. And again.

And with all those thoughts bouncing around in my brain like popcorn kernels in a hot pan, I drove to Trader Joe's and bought a cookie butter cheesecake.

And I texted a friend from the Trader Joe's parking lot. "OMG I just called my bio-dad and I am freaking out right now."

When I got home, the voice mail icon was on my phone screen and I knew that he'd called me back. Hysterically, I hurried into the house, frantically put away my groceries, shoved the cheesecake I'd just bought into the freezer, babbled some nonsense to my husband, and listened to the voice message.

He sounded nice. Kind. Not at all like the red-eyed cartoon monster I had envisioned due to J's dramatic story about my brother and the bridge.

I called him back. We talked like old friends for half an hour, and he told me about his life - three kids with J, an older daughter, twice married, once divorced. He'd retired from the mill at Pend Oreille and when he got bored, began working on cars. Chevys. He told me a delightful story about his older sister from Arizona tearing around town in a red convertible he'd fixed up.

"Just like the little old lady from Pasadena," I laughed in delight. I couldn't wait to meet that aunt. She sounded like a fireball, full of piss and vinegar.

We met on March 1st in Washington State. I'd flown in for my best friend's wedding - I was maid of honor. He was exactly the way I hoped he would be - kind-hearted, funny, caring. Over the loudly raucous dinner table at Tomato Street, he shared stories with us about the only time he called out of work, and the time he did what is now known affectionately in family lore as "pulling a JB" on a broken fridge Sears was replacing.

I was scared to death that he wouldn't want to be a part of my life, because of my own baggage of self doubt and insecurity. I wanted him to accept me for who I was.

And he did.

And that night, as my parents waited in the parking lot of the restaurant, listening to music in their car, he thanked them for doing such a wonderful job raising me.

All my quirks and flaws didn't matter. The only thing that mattered at that moment in time is that not only had I accepted him, he had accepted me.

I wasn't afraid anymore.

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Comments

( 17 comments — Leave a comment )
mac_arthur_park
Jan. 11th, 2017 08:50 pm (UTC)
Such an amazing, brave piece. Thank you for your honesty.
az_starshine
Jan. 11th, 2017 11:56 pm (UTC)
Thank you. :)
penpusher
Jan. 12th, 2017 07:35 am (UTC)
This really lays it all out there, the feelings, the fears, the concerns and confusions of the actions of people making decisions that you had no say in, but impacted you so much.

I relate as my father walked out of my life for eight years of it: from ten to eighteen. There's always some nagging thought that there was something I did personally that caused it, and I'm sure you must have felt like that at times also. Self-esteem issues are difficult to negotiate when the parent you need to help you overcome them isn't there.

The good thing is that when my dad did come back, it was, very much like with you, on MY terms, and he seemed content with who I was and how I lived my life (mostly). And that's as it should be, since he wasn't there for those formative years!

Good wishes to your family and you!!
lilmissmagic71
Jan. 13th, 2017 01:18 am (UTC)
So brave and nicely done!
adoptedwriter
Jan. 13th, 2017 05:56 pm (UTC)
I LOVED this!!! Happy reunions are such a blessing!
rayaso
Jan. 15th, 2017 01:37 am (UTC)
I am glad this turned out so well for you! It must have felt wonderful.
halfshellvenus
Jan. 15th, 2017 08:37 am (UTC)
With such clouded issues in your bio family's past and your years growing up with your adoptive dad, I'm glad this turned out well for you. And the part that gives me joy is your husband, bombing into that picture and into your life with the resilience and happiness that makes all the difference.
eternal_ot
Jan. 16th, 2017 01:23 pm (UTC)
Wow! This was great and I am glad it worked out that way. Lovely picture and I almost thought you are gonna speak about your husband. Really well written! Cheers!
bewize
Jan. 16th, 2017 03:31 pm (UTC)
Well written and honest. Thank you for sharing all your fears. That took guts.
xlovebecomesher
Jan. 16th, 2017 04:47 pm (UTC)
I'm glad things went well in meeting your father! Nicely done!
my_name_is_jenn
Jan. 16th, 2017 09:05 pm (UTC)
That's so great the meeting with your father went so well. That took a lot of bravery on your part to meet with him. :)
mamas_minion
Jan. 16th, 2017 09:12 pm (UTC)
I am glad that the meeting with him went well. Thank you for sharing.
eeyore_grrl
Jan. 16th, 2017 09:41 pm (UTC)
Well shared and written.
majesticarky
Jan. 17th, 2017 02:46 pm (UTC)
I'm glad you were able to find him and create a relationship. You really conveyed well the mixed emotions of reaching out to him and forging connection.
dmousey
Jan. 17th, 2017 04:08 pm (UTC)
You are a more courageous person than I. I have never met my mother. (Long story) hugs and peace~~~D
m_malcontent
Jan. 18th, 2017 10:09 pm (UTC)
Great entry....your capacity to forgive is amazing
alycewilson
Jan. 19th, 2017 12:37 am (UTC)
It's so wonderful you were able to reconnect that way! My husband just reconnected with his biological mother, who had been out of his life since age 5, due to his father successfully fighting for sole custody in court. She is the sweetest person, and they talk every weekend. It's so great to find out more about his family!
( 17 comments — Leave a comment )

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