Who's Your Daddy?

It's been a long time since I felt like writing (shame), but I am back (at least for the moment).

After twenty-something years of absence, my adoptive father has resurfaced and wants to be a part of my life. He moved to Florida with his wife, stepdaughter, and baby son long ago and ceased all contact with me and Big Bro. All of a sudden he is back, and wants to rekindle our relationship.



For years I went along with no one to call "Daddy" even though I have had 4 father-ish types pass through my life. I would like to open this matter up to the general public, and YOU can weigh in with your ideas in the 'Who's Your Daddy' debate.


The Chronological Line-Up
(cue Rocky theme music)

Daddy #1 - Was nothing more to me than a sperm donor, and a mystery, for 32 years of my life. He was very young, and I was put up for adoption right away. After a search, and a letter, he has become a part of my life (somewhat). We exchange occasional text messages and e-mails. We got to know each other to a decent extent through these, but his wife is very against us being in contact, and so we have yet to meet or make the relationship "real". He signs his name as "dad" in all of our correspondence.




Daddy # 2 - Adopted me along with Momma. His name is on my birth certificate. For legal purposes, he is my daddy. He is Big Bro's biological daddy. He and Momma divorced when I was two years old. He was a weekend dad for a good ten years afterward. Then he moved to Florida with his "family". That was the end of his father tenure. No contact. No birthday cards or calls. No letters. No NOTHING!!!! Until now...a message through Facebook. Some messages back and forth and a phone call. He is sorry, and wants to be back in our (mine and Big Bro's) lives. When asked to explain the whys of his disappearance, all he can say is "I don't know", "I am sorry", and "I will not disappear again". He also signs his name as "dad" in all of our correspondence.





Daddy # 3 - Married Momma after Daddy # 2. They were married for 3-4 years. He was good to me and Big Bro. The two of them fought like cats and dogs, but the venom was never directed at me or Big Bro. During his reign, I called Daddy # 3 "Dada" (Daddy # 2 was "daddy"). After the divorce, Dada tried to be another weekend father to me. It went on for a bit until Momma decided that he really had no claims to me and ceased all contact. Big Bro, being older, maintained his own secret relationship with Daddy # 3. I was still quite young and was not able to do so on my own. Many years passed before I saw Daddy # 3 again. He came to Big Bro's wedding, and some functions for Big Bro's mini-people. Anytime I do see him, he is very happy to see me. He always expresses that he would love to have a relationship with me whenever I am ready to do so. I feel bad...but never take him up on his offer. It feels like opening yet another complicated door, even though I know he only has the best of intentions. Being that I have no correspondence with Daddy # 3 (aside from an occasional sighting at a function), he is known only by his given name.




Daddy # 4 - Came along shortly after Daddy # 3. He married Momma, and surprisingly, in a few months they will have been married for 25 years. From the start we called him by his name. He was never given a dad-like reference. To be honest, he didn't deserve one. He was mean to me and Big Bro. We walked on eggshells growing up with him as he would pick a fight with anyone over anything. He never treated us as his own. More like thorns in his side. He and Momma adopted a baby together. He was her Daddy. It was very obvious the way he treated his 'own' child vs. how he treated me and Big Bro. To be fair, Daddy # 4 has come a long way in the past few years. He is good to Big Bro's mini-people. He is much calmer now, and shows much more of an effort in trying to maintain relationships with us.

A few factors to try and weigh out the decision on WHO'S YOUR DADDY?
(A low score is better than a high score.)


Abandonment Factor:
Daddy # 1 - scores high, but it was really beyond his control
Daddy # 2 - scores high, but it was within his full control
Daddy # 3 - scores medium, because he tried to maintain relationship but was turned away
Daddy # 4 - scores low, as he has been around steadily for 25+ years



Feeling Loved Factor:
Daddy # 1 - scores medium, as he expresses this point often but doesn't stand up to his wife so that we could have a real relationship
Daddy # 2 - scores high, as his long term absence has not made me feel warm and fuzzy in the least
Daddy # 3 - scores medium/low, as anytime I see him he genuinely expresses his feelings toward me, and without being pushy tells me that he would always be there for me
Daddy # 4 - scores solid medium, as one day he could refer to me as his daughter, but the next day not...mixed signals and messages always!!!




Financial Obligation Factor:
Daddy # 1 - scores high, as he never paid a dime...but again, he didn't have to
Daddy # 2 - scores high, as he stopped paying child support at the same time he left us
Daddy # 3 - scores high, as he did support us for the time he was involved but it was short lived
Daddy # 4 - scores low, as, like it or not, he financially supported us for all those years and to this day takes us out for nice dinners, buys us gifts, etc....




Common Interest Factor:
Daddy # 1 - scores medium, as we both love to play and create music, but his godliness is a bit over the top
Daddy # 2 - scores medium/high, as I know we both enjoy listening to music, but haven't done so in over 20 years
Daddy # 3 - scores high, as I am not sure we have any
Daddy # 4 - scores medium, we also share a passion for music, but his taste for the finer things separates us




Mixed Signal Factor:
Daddy # 1 - scores high, as he treats me like a yo-yo....we will meet, we won't meet, I will stand up to my wife, I won't stand up to my wife, my kids mean the world to me, Umm hello???
Daddy # 2 - scores high, as he was a decent father when he was still involved but then went AWOL
Daddy # 3 - scores low, as he always wanted a relationship...and has maintained the same vibe after all these years
Daddy # 4 - scores high, as mixed signals should be his middle name



Daddy Awards

The award for look alike dad goes to............
Daddy # 1, as we look scarily alike.

The award for stick it out dad goes to...........
Daddy # 4, as he has been the most consistent.

The award for most sincere dad goes to............
Daddy # 3, as he is straight from the heart.

The award for most dad-like memories goes to............
Daddy # 2, as he used to throw a ball, push a swing, attend a Parent Teacher Conference, etc....


Happy Daddy Memories

Daddy # 1 - I loved that he first wrote back to me on my birthday. He knew my birthday 32 years later. That was pretty cool. Looking at his pictures and seeing my own face staring back at me was really a trip. He plays guitar...nuff said?


Daddy # 2 - I loved when he would plan a fun activity for me and Big Bro, instead of just taking us to his house to play with the other kids. On those days, we would take turns picking where we would go to eat, or what we would do. He always sang along to songs in the car....only oldies. He would make up his own silly songs about cleaning up.


Daddy # 3 - I loved when he took me and Big Bro, and his daughter to a mall one day for a shopping spree. He told us we each had $60 to spend in any way we chose. We had to keep track of our money (math lesson) and make the best decisions. I still have a book about the history of Disney animation that I picked on that day. It wasn't the money part that made it so special. He made it into an adventure, and it was certainly a peak experience for me. He also took us on fun family vacations....amusement parks, road trips, etc....


Daddy # 4 - I loved his (sometimes over the top) spontaneity....he could start a house-wide water fight, blast Grateful Dead tunes, and play the worst air-guitar known to man (in an endearing way). He is big on showing love through financial means (which I don't really care for) but as a result would get me loads of Cabbage Patch dolls, and built me my pink Huffy bike, and would occasionally take me shopping for clothes in an over the top frenzy.


Well....where do you weigh in on the 'WHO'S YOUR DADDY?' debate?

Everything OLD is NEW again.....

I recently signed up to one of these online social networking sites. Within a few days, I was in touch with many people from my younger years. People who really meant, and mean, something to me. People who I have lost touch with...when everyone goes their own way....and life is too busy to keep up with keeping up. I have been able to share childhood memories with the people who were actually there. Connections are so important to me. Being able to speak to some of these very dear people has helped me to feel, once again, connected. One special person in particular is A.S.L.! And to her, I want to say: I was there....you were there....it was real...and meaningful....and I loved you for sharing those times with me....and I loved you for being someone who was positive in my life during a time when not much else was...and I loved you for allowing me to be able to be a positive force in your life, when you didn't have all that much good stuff either....and I love you still.

Getting Called Mama is Freakin' Awesome

I went visiting last night. The family was desperately trying to entertain an 18 month old baby girl, as her mommy had a function to attend. Three adults - grandpa, great grandma, and great aunt - looking frazzled as can be, were singing and looking through her picture books to try and keep her occupied. When I came in, Cutie Baby lit up, and waddled right over to me and grabbed my hand. She didn’t want anything to do with her great uncle, who I entered with. She just wanted me, a person she never met. In truth, many people have noted a resemblance between me and Cutie Baby’s mother. Maybe she noticed as well, and felt I would do until she could have her mommy back. Whatever the case may be, Cutie Baby held my hand, cuddled up on me, gave me kisses and hugs, and even called me Mama. When any other member of her family attempted to take her, she shook her hands, and held on to me. When her great grandmother (Nanny) was changing her diaper, she kicked and cried and carried on. I stepped in, and she smiled up at me as I finished the job. It could have been the resemblance to her mommy thing, or the fact that I was a new face when she had been with the same three people for many hours already, but getting called Mama, and being able to bring comfort to Cutie Baby had my ovaries doing flips. No drug could possibly replicate a Mini High!

Tick tock tick tock…….

A Garden Full of Flowers

I was adopted at birth. Four days old to be exact. My mother begged and borrowed to cover the costs, and raced off to pick me up and bring me to my new home. And she loved me. There were turbulent times, and unfortunate circumstances sprinkled in for good measure, but always one consistent force remained, my mother loved me. Still does, by the way. (I love you too mommy!)

Being adopted was never a secret to me. My mother framed it for me as something special. I was wanted, hoped for, wished for, prayed for….and of course, loved.

I always wondered. It is sort of built into the deal. Some people may choose not to search, but I don’t believe anyone who says they never wondered. You have to wonder. Who do I look like? What are they like? Do they think of me the way I think of them? Nature vs. Nurture…..? Medical histories? Nationalities?

In my mid-twenties I finally received the information necessary to begin my search. Names! So many people don’t ever receive that kind of information. When I was finally given those precious pieces of paperwork, I was blown away. These people had real names. First names, middle names, and last names!

I got to work on the internet, and within a couple of hours had potentially located both of my birthparents. Just like that. There they were.

I gathered up my courage and made the first phone call. SHE was not home, but I left a message and waited. The call came later that evening while I was at a Mexican restaurant. I left my companion to eat alone, and sat on the ledge outside for 2 hours as I spoke to her and her mom at the same time. They were excited to hear from me. I was equally excited, my body shaking as we spoke. We exchanged basics, and addresses, and promises to send pictures and letters. SHE explained that it would not be a good idea for me to contact HIM.

Months passed before anything else happened.

Christmas Eve. One of those sticky notes from the Post Office was left on the door. You have a package, blah blah blah. My companion raced me over to the Post Office only to find that they had just closed. I began to cry. My companion banged on the door, and begged the worker inside to just give us this one package. It’s Christmas. Please! I received my package full of pictures, a Christmas gift, and a letter. All from my birth grandmother. Awesome! I quickly gathered up pictures of myself throughout the years, composed a letter, and sent it off. We have continued this process since that time. We exchange a couple of letters throughout the year, me and my grandmother. We hint at meeting from time to time. SHE is not into having a relationship with me. Her mother wants to wait until SHE is ready. I love my grandmother. At this point, I don’t really care to meet HER, but would like to meet my grandmother, who is a very caring and loving woman.

Years passed, and I continued to wonder about HIM. SHE said not to contact him, and for some strange reason I listened to that advice for 6+ years. Last year, a bit before Christmas, I changed my mind. I wrote him a very vague, yet identifying letter and sent it off with my e-mail address. I heard nothing. Until….

my birthday, a few months later. I came home from work and checked my e-mail. There it was. An e-mail from him. A picture, and a brief but heartfelt Happy Birthday message. I was floored. Had I mentioned my birthday in the letter? I don’t think I gave the actual date. Well, as it turns out, I didn’t. He remembered.

Since then, I have been communicating regularly with him. We have spoken on the phone a couple of times, but mostly we send e-mails and text messages. It is still complicated, as his family is not open to this situation, but it is lovely getting to know him.He is a really special person. And interestingly enough, we are very alike. We think alike, and look alike, and share many of the same interests and talents. This has been a tremendous, life changing experience for both of us. I love him very much.

Cathartic. Healing. Magical.

“Without rain, we would not have flowers”
- A Very Wise Man called Dad

Slowly, but surely, I am growing a garden full of flowers!

Making Amends

The 12 Steps of Recovery involve making amends.

Two people in my very close circle are in recovery, and I am proud to be able to say that. Since recovery stresses the idea of anonymity, I will do my best to keep this even more anonymous than normal. This blog is dedicated to one of these people, that I will refer to as GQ.

A few years back, the entire group was going on a cruise to celebrate a big birthday with GQ. I decided not to go. Of course there is that pesky fear of travel that gets in my way, but that was not even my reason. I felt slighted by GQ for so long that I did not want to do something that felt phony. I wrote GQ an e-mail and expressed my feelings. I was hurt by years of dangling by a thread, walking on eggshells, of feeling like no more than a thorn in GQ’s side, of GQ’s bursts of anger, etc… And although it was not my recovery, I did not respect that GQ talked the talk, but did not walk the walk. Where the hell was my amends? I was there too. I was effected by everything that went on. GQ responded to my e-mail. It was not very heartfelt. GQ’s response actually hurt me even more, as it likened the idea of legal ownership as an expression of love.
A couple of years have passed in the interim.

Something has happened, and I don’t know what it is. GQ does thoughtful things for me now. GQ calls me on the phone just to see how I am. GQ ends each phone call by saying “I Love You”. Words are words, but GQ is actually showing me love, and I really like it. It is as if all those years of pain, and hurt are melting away. I feel important. I feel considered. I feel appreciated. So I just wanted to say:

I love you too GQ!
Happy Anniversary.

I am proud of you.

Minis ROCK

I have two main mini people in my world right now.My niece, mini A, and my best friend’s daughter, mini L. I’ve always had a thing for mini people, but let me make this very clear, these two minis ROCK.

Recently, I did my mini rounds…visiting both of my girls. On the same day, both minis told me that they loved me. Completely unprovoked by parents, of their own will, they separately told me they love me. Do you know how good that feels? I do!
An impromptu play date occurred when I was visiting mini A, and mini L and her mother stopped over to bring me something. Mini A’s mom invited them in, and my mini worlds collided. Both minis are accustomed to my FULL attention, and getting showered with my undivided silliness. My minis had never played together before. Sure, they have bumped into each other at nearby mini clothing stores, and mini learning facilities. This was the first time that my minis got to interact with each other. We had a lot of fun: silly puppet shows, drawing, and cooking up a feast in the play kitchen (which included microwaving grapes, and using a toaster as a pepper mill). I had to put myself in overdrive to make sure neither of my minis felt left out. Well worth it, as both minis had a lot of fun and have since asked about each other.
I love those minis so much!

Me, as a Deep Rooted Tree

It's a running theme in my therapy sessions. Words like roots, rooted, and unrooted come into play regularly. During some fantasy exercises, I become a plant...but still have a problem feeling my own roots. Deeper yet, I want desperately to connect to the roots of surrounding plants, but can not seem to do so.While looking through some old photos, I came across this one of me being part of a tree. It is very fitting.

Plants have roots. Roots have two major functions. They hold on to the soil to keep the plant securely in place, protecting it from the elements, and they drink up water to nourish the plant.
Nourishment. Protection.

Protection. Nourishment.

Nourishment. Protection.

Protection. Nourishment.

Uncertainty in so many areas of my life, leaves me feeling unrooted.

Past. Present. Future.

My therapist once asked me to draw a family tree. What a loaded assignment that was. My tree resembled a strange creature.

Very un-tree-like! How could one possibly create a tree-like structure with: adoption, and divorces, step-this and step-that, comings and goings, people in and people out...

Do you know that through my many different configurations of family, that I have had a total of 1o siblings? Steps and halves, and whatevers...10 siblings! Of those 10, I have contact with 2. To be fair, there are 4 on that list that I have never met, and didn't know existed until recently. There are also 4 on the list that I knew to be my siblings for years that are no longer my siblings for one reason or another, and I have no contact with for one reason or another. How do you denote that on the tree? Do they get lopped off like a pruning of sorts?

In all, I have had 8 different parent figures, though only one has been a consistent presence for the total of my 32 years. Mom.

So how do you draw in birthmother, birthfather, father, stepfather, stepmother,and stepfather part duex on the tree? It is complicated.

And maybe it doesn't matter what that damn tree looks like, and how to possibly get all these people on the tree. Maybe what matters most is who I want on the tree. My tree.

Or maybe the secret is that I AM the tree.

I want to grow deep roots that protect and nourish me.