Day 18,316 (part one)

The day starts out with a plane ride from Raleigh, NC  to Orlando, FL.  My sister, Vikki, (technically, she can be considered a half-sister, but for the first time I can remember, she has lay her own interests aside and decided to help me on my quest.  There is no room for “half” there!) is pickins me up at the airport.  She has offered to morally support my choice to try to meet my biological father face to face. 

Let me take you back a few months before this:  I had flown to Tampa, rented a car, and drove to the address had recieved from the private investigator.  It was approximately an hour drive from the airport to the house, and I can’t even explain what was going through my mind on the trip.  I had found the house, and driven past.  There was no car in the driveway, and I saw no signs of life in the short time I had driving past.  I drove around again and behind, snapping pictures so I could have a visual reminder of the house where he was supposed to live.  I then drove to the end of the street and watched for signs of comings or goings in the house and neighborhood.  I found myself wondering if any person I saw was or knew my father.  I finally could not stay awake, and decided to drive to a hotel for the night.  I returned to the neighboorhood the next morning around eight in the morning.  As I passed through, I saw the car in the driveway of his house.  A wave of fear, excitement, or something caused me to speed off and stop to collect myself at the end of the street again.  I tried calling his cell number, again given by the private investigator, and there was no way to even leave a voicemail.  I had hoped I could just let him know I was there and leave it up to him if he came out and met me or not.  No answer, so I drove away.

When I shared the details of the trip with Vikki, she was impressed that I had gone, but disappointed that I had not been able to see him.  She said she would have gone with me, and while it was a comfort, it did not help my own disappointment.

Fast forward then to April 9th, 2012.  Vikki was in Orlando visiting her kids and grandkids, and had set a day aside to drive me to Spring Hill, Florida.

So, off we went.  Vikki turned on her navigation system in the truck and we started to following the instruction to get to his house.  Having not spent much time together in the recent year lent itself to plenty of subjects for discussion, and the time seemed to fly by.  Before I knew it, we were turning onto the street near my father’s house.  WhenI did realize it, my heart started to palpitate.  We stopped at a Publix grocery to take a bathroom break before going on.  The anticipation made it hard to think straight.  Outside of the bathroom was a display of potted plants and flowers.  One flower in particular seemed to stand out to me.  It was a type of orchid, with a few blooms of a stunning color of pink.  I had never seen a flower like that.  

We had gotten all the way out to the truck when I decided I needed to get that plant.  Now, I am know for a black thumb with plants in he recent years, so I was arguing with myself the whole way. “What are you buying this for?  You will just kill it.  Or are you thinking of giving it to your father?  Shouldn’t he be the one buying you flowers?  Are you just trying to suck up to his wife?  Or maybe soften the blow of revealing who you are to her?”

As we drove to the house, I still was not sure that I could actually walk up to the door.  Having the plant in my hand was a tiny distraction, enough to get me to get out and do it.  Vikki knocked, and a dog started to bark inside the house.  A few minutes passed by without any other sign of life.  We were just ready to concede that noone was home when the door opened.  A woman was there, Janelle, who introduced herself as my father’s wife.  This was only after my sister tactfully blurted out, “Is George home?  This is his daughter!”

Amazingly, we were welcomed in and asked to sit down.  The house was beautiful inside, and it was hard to not just look around  wanting to see where my father lived.

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First day

The date was February 15th, 1962.  Loring AFB hospital, Limstone, Maine. A nine pound baby girl was born.  I don’t know all the details, since I was too young to notice, but the room was probably cold and bright.  A twenty eight year old woman welcomes her sixth child into the world.  The emotions of a new birth were, I believe, mixed with much more complicated feelings.  Maybe mixed in were uncertainty, fear, happiness, trepidation, regret?  Not the regret that you might think.  My birth, I have been told, was very much wanted.  At least in my mother’s eyes.  I was the child born from the first real love relationship in her life.  My father showed her the first real love she ever felt.  Sounds warm and beautiful?  I want it to be. 

The first man who sees me, my mother’s husband, is unsure who I belong to.  Him, or one of his best friends.  According to my mom, the statement was shared between the two men “One of us has a baby girl!”

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Today

I am feeling bored, restless, unsure of how to go forward. It has beeh a very hard year. Situations seemed to arise in everry area of my life. I had some physical issues I am told have to do with being pre-menopausal. My husband seemed depressed and had a lot of hip pain, making him very grouchy at times. A family secret was put into the light and needed to be dealt with. A professional’s testing skills left a whole lot to be desired, and resulted in part of our family being torn from us. My job has had challenges. My 2 adult son’s lived with us, and used our living room for their bedroom.
Now, I do realize that my choices have not made this any easier, I do believe that I have done my best to make ammends and to encourage the family. We have come out of this better off in the long run. We are healthier, and it is a noticeable healthier all around. I am grateful to God for His guidance, grace, and mercy. Without Him, we would not be here today. I am tired, though. This is the Year of God’s Government. The year of restoration! I am looking forward to seeing Him show up, show off, and show out.

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