Summer is ending in a flurry, but I'm preoccupied with genealogy. See, my mom and I entered in on a DNA database to see if there are any half-biological siblings or maybe a biological father available on the internet.
Oh, right. My dad isn't my biological father. That fact is pesky.
I was informed of this reality when I was 15. That may have been RELATIVELY late, but who cares? Not me. Bigger fish.
So I'm looking for biological ties just for fun! Who knows what I'll find?
But that's only my preoccupation. My dad woke me up, a strange occurrence for I lack responsibility, and tells me we should talk.
"Wake up, drink some water."
I mean, okay, but we're walking a dangerous line. I've never experienced a positive surprise in this position. I glance outside the window. Good. Good. The truck is still there. Is my mother pregnant? No, that's impossible. Why would he tell me this now? Is he mad about my sleeping friend in the basement? No. I wrote a note. There's silence outside. No, there are birds. I'm waiting.
I drink some water.
"When I got out of the Navy, I was sleeping with a girl named Diedre in LA. She said she was pregnant..."
Dad, we had this conversation five years ago. Not this one, but one involving this topic. I've lived this life.
He surprised me and proceeded to tell me about his ex trying to get him to be a father for her son back in '68, but her family was not receptive and he was escorted out of Ohio. He told me about he forgot the hypothetical son until 1989 when he called but they never met. He told me about the call he received on Friday from his other son. He told me about the lunch they had planned at Edgefield Winery later on Saturday.
He told me his son's name was Hoye. Joel Hoye.
He lives in Las Vegas, but had lived in New York and LA earlier in his life. Everywhere my parents had been. Strange coincidences. Laughable ones.
My father has two sons named Joel. The biological son doesn't share his last name. The one that does share his name is not his biological son.
Anything I find on the DNA database will be shadowed in comparison.
1 comment:
thanks for telling being so open and vulnerable here. truly. families are always so tricky, always so full of emotion even when you want to remain objective. i hope your relationship with your dad, the one who raised you, only comes out all the stronger and sweeter after being exposed to the truth.
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