Last year my mom told me about these two local men. Justin DeClever and his friend Kelsey Snipping. One day Justin took a DNA test and found out his father was not his father. His father was his friends father. Kelsey Snipping. Aparently Justins Dad (who raised him) knew he wasn't his but had raised him as his own. Justin's mother passed away a few years ago so no one could talk to her about this bombshell poor Justin was deadling with. I don't know either of these people all that well, but eh now they are just gossip fodder for the beach. Rad eh?
One week ago today I went to go have dinner with my grandma. She had bought E a stocking and then after dinner J and I were going to get groceries and go fill it.
We sit down and get the stockign and a few small things for our son and order food.
My grandma says she has news for me. Smile. Smile. smile. She isn't sure if I want to know. Smile Smile Smmmile. but if I wanted to find out I could find out. Smile Smile Smile. If I have a half sister. Smile Smile Smile.
I feel my chest just collapse into my tummy and I slump to the table. "No. I don't want to know." I say. I don't know how this is the same room it was a moment ago.
Turns out 4 years ago my grandmother took a DNA test. My husband and I had talked about them and if we would ever take them as recently as a few weeks ago. He has many half siblings he knows exist but not specifics like, how many or how old because his dad is shitty and abandoned all his children. . I specifically told him I never wanted to take one because I would find out I had a sister. And then. My grandmother took one. And found me a sister.
They thought she was maybe one of my grandmothers brothers children since she matched to my grandmother. My grandmother was one of 6 girls for her mother. Her dad was also a shitty abandony guy so she has at least 4 other siblings that we know of, one is my age.
Except then this girl also matched genetically to my cousin Andy H. Who is my cousin..through my papa, not my grandma. So now the theory is maybe she is my grandmothers grandaughter.
Then the story comes out. This girl was adopted. She did the dna test and found her birth mother. Who told her that she picked a guy up and had to get him to fishing town (fuck I can't recall the name. I read this and it felt like the whole fucking world was throbbing. I looked down and my soup was cold and everything was a fuzzy what the fuck kind of moment.) so he could go fishing with his dad, and brothers.
Have I mentioned the fishing? And how my family were fishermen but I don't eat fish har har black sheep of the family har har. Smile Smile Smile. My dad fished...with his dad and brothers.
So she didn't tell me. She went to her other sons to ask if they knew anything about it. They would have been like 17 and 15 at the time. My father...20. With a little 2 year old daughter at home and a girlfriend who he was on and off with because my dad didn't make great choices.
My papa always said my dad would do all the prep work for the boat and then the day to go out would come and he would vanish. My mom talked about how he went to a concert on the other side of the state and didn't have gas money to give his friends for the way back and would disapear. My dad would often vanish for a few days and liked stuff like...you know, drugs.
So then my grandma tells me. And I wrote this entry and it was more in depth but now I just...#@%^@#$%#$ I just need to write it so it is out.
My dad has been dead for 16 years. He spent 8 years in prison for his bad choices, then got out and died 10 months later. His last phone call to me was "Hey mean girl I wanted to ask you something but I guess it can wait til tomorrow."
It always felt a little like Sirius Black. Out and dead before he could really live. Only you know, guilty.
So, he isn't around. And so it is on me on if this girl knows where she came from. I am the only way to move forward. And there is my grandma. Smile Smile Smile. Excitement. Another tie to her dead child. And only I can give it to her. Smile Smile Smile.
My dad was rad to me. He got me meaningful fantasy nerdy gifts, lots of books. He loved to read. He was so good to me. But he did some shitty things. Things that they wouldn't tell 9 year old me when he went to prison. And I don't know that I have enough good memories and good stories and good conversations to balance out the gritty facts of his bad choices. I don't think there are enough of this small ammount of good memories to spread them out in a way that doesn't just make everyone feel like fucking garbage.
I feel betray and hurt, even though he never knew about this girl. And I feel shitty because my grandmother wanted so badly to adopt a girl, they were in the process of doing that, and then my teenage parents got pregnant and I became the families girl. And 2 years later. There was another girl. And my grandma could have just adopted her. Only this is the way things went instead. And I feel guilt.
I left the restaurant and I got to the car and I just broke down in tears. I sobbed and my husband made the call that we would not be filling his stocking. So my wonderful planned night. Was just a big pile of what the fuck.
And I get it. I am a major asshole if I do not do it. It isn't this girls fault she EXISTS. It isn't my dads fault we don't know her because he didn't know. This was all pre internet and if he didn't give a phone number to this one night stand..... He didn't hide her from us or deny her. He was never given the chance.
But I feel like I was hit by a truck. And my feelings about my father are so..messy. I feel shitty about the question he never got to ask me. That I didn't try to be more open with him once he was able to actually spend time with me. That I feel sad whenever I think of how much fun we would have had gaming together or watching stupid fantasy films or talking about the philisophical babble he was so very open to. About his bad choices and how sad I am that he made them instead of staying with me.
I feel like the moral thing is to take the test and do the right thing for this stranger but I am broken hearted and if it was only about me I would never do it because I would never want to dig up these fucked up feelings I have already never dealt with. I am angry my uncles knew before me. I am so sad and angry and exposed.
I told my mother and she snapped "Of course when we were together." and she sounded excited too, liek this is a good thing. But I was just holding back tears. I am the worst. I am the asshole who hears this and just think of myself and fall the fuck apart. I hope she didn't tell anyone. I don't want to talk about it at Christmas. I didn't need to tell her at all. I just need support. I am very fucked in the head about all of this. I can tell my husband and grandmother don't think it is the travesty I feel it is. They both already knew they had extra siblings out there they would never know. I feel like I was hit by a truck. I don't even know where to start dealing with it and when I told my grandma I needed to think about it. She asked at the end of the meal..if I had thought about it yet.
My feelings about my father are complicated and honestly I planned to never have to unbury those feelings and deal with them. Certainly not over an early Christmas dinner.
I am overwhelmed.