Life had a surprise in store

How does one tell this story. You must tell it all. 

 In the past ten months, I have lost my mother (cancer), my brother (overdose), and my grandmother (old age). Three of my closest, three that knew me best. I have been reminded of how precious life, and family, truly is. Tomorrow is not promised. And with that, I share the news of a gift that came during the same time of these losses. 

 What’s becoming a common experience, is now mine. Early last year, I took an ancestry DNA test to explore my relations and to enhance my family tree. Through testing and exploration, and much surprise, it was confirmed that I have a different father from what I had always known. After much time in processing, I am ready to share, and fully accept what the universe has brought into our lives. (1980-1986) My Mom and Dad, Dean were in a long-standing relationship. She a bartender/waitress, he a barber in the little logging town of Orofino, Idaho. Both drinkers, friends of many and hanging out at the bar was the scene. There was a breakup, and a fling. And that is how this all happened. Mom and Dad are soon back together, and discovering her pregnancy (me), and marry shortly before I am born. I was born into her arms, and his. No one knew. They go onto move to Mtn. Home, divorce when I’m 2, but continue seeing each other on-and-off until I’m around 5-6. Dad then decides to better his life and heads off to Ohio to start anew. He created a new, sober, and healthy life there with family. We reconnected in Ohio when I was 11-12, and for a year of that time I had my dad back in my life. A year full of memories I’ll cherish always. Trips to Cedar Point, the zoo, and hiking. Dinners at the dinner table. Hanging out and swimming with cousins. Getting to know my dad. It was the best chapter of my childhood. Tragically, a year later he passed in a car accident in 1994 (he 41, me 13). He’s buried in Mtn. Home, next to where I just laid my grandmother to rest. I’ll love and cherish him always, and nothing will ever change that. 

Now to the discovery of the past year…

 Jan’22 I take the DNA test, and soon discover something is off. I see maternal ties, but there are no paternal names I would recognize coming up. It takes me a few months (and exactly two glasses of wine) to find the nerve to contact my uncle Don, asking him “hey, this is probably nothing, but would you mind testing for me to check the box?”, and after a few minutes he writes back “well that’s odd, because I’m on there, so is your uncle Greg, and cousin Mike”, and then the next message we still laugh about today “I think your mother has something to tell you”. 

The news doesn’t destroy me, doesn’t upset me. Instead, I’m instantly seeing the probability of it all. I know my parents and their rowdy past. Of course, this could happen to me! Nothing could ever change my love for them, not even this. I ring my mom the next morning and tell her the news. It was upsetting, she never knew, never suspected, anyone but my dad. Through tears on the call, I recall her saying “we loved each other very much”. I consoled her, letting her know that it didn’t matter, and that it changes nothing. Dad is still my dad, forever and always. After that initial talk, we never have the chance to talk about it again. 

 Phil and I talked about it often, he was eager to solve this new puzzle of who the real guy might be. I was hesitant to search, having had enough turmoil in all thing’s ‘family’. But alas, I gave him permission to start researching. He’d done much of the same to find his relations in Sicily, and that was a huge success – family we are still in contact with 20+ years later. 

 August-November 2022...

We discover Mom has terminal lung cancer. Months of tender anguish, helping her through her to the end, hospice life, and finally saying goodbye on November 7th. Nothing mattered but her day-to-day comfort, and holding on to each moment I could soak up. Cancer gave me a gift in having her so close to me, in a way that I had never had her before. I’ll always cherish those three months, no matter how hard they were. 

 At the same time of going through that, Phil was quietly doing his research, leaving me out of it as I had requested. My brother Shawn and I pondered the news together, with him saying, "You never know, maybe he's a really great guy" And sure enough, Phil figured it out, and around October, he came to me with the news that he’d found ‘him’, asking what I wanted to do. I told him to continue to keep me out of it but contact and offer to confirm with a test kit. He was met with a willing response and acceptance to test. In the very same window of waiting for the results, we lose mom. It’s then soon confirmed that this IS my biological father, with he and Phil now carefully communicating via text. His name is Bill. 

I take time to process my loss of mom. And here this man is kindly telling Phil, “Please tell her to take all the time she needs”. He is the first to send a sympathy card in the mail. I haven’t even talked to or met him, and he’s warming my heart, and there for me in just the way I need him to be. Quietly respectful and kind, extremely careful of my feelings. I finally call to meet him the day before Thanksgiving. My heart was pounding, felt like hours to dial the number. 

 Our first call is careful, tender, and emotional. Both sides. He’s awestruck, just as I am. He sounds cautious, curious, also sad. We both cried. He tells me his story of how he had visited Orofino for just a window of time back in the day to visit a friend, and the gal he had met. He had sensed her last relationship wasn’t quite over and went on his way. He told me of his family and his now quiet, retired life in Mississippi. He tells me of my half-brother, Chris. I tell him of my upbringing and current life and family. He learns he has two more grandchildren. I think our call was 3+ hours. 

 We open communication from there slowly, and soon after we make plans for him to visit. It’s all happening fast, but I have just been reminded, how precious time really is. There’s no time like the present. Mid-January he flies in for a 3-day visit. The initial meeting was overwhelming for the both of us and Phil. We embraced awkwardly and had to sit outside of security to catch our breath. Tears and all. But happy tears. That evening I take him, just the two of us, to Chandler's in downtown Boise. We unpack all our stories and get to know one another over martinis (my first, his favorite) and fine dining. This is quite the occasion, after all. We spend the rest of the visit, easily getting to know him, and he us. The kids came out with “Grandpa Bill” almost instantly, which had my head and heart spinning with a mix of emotions. As we worked to tell the kids the news ahead of his arrival, they met it all with a simple “so we have TWO grandpas!?!?”. Innocent and sweet, just as it should be. It’s been a wonderful experience since. We traveled to meet up again in Biloxi in early May and had the pleasure of meeting his wonderful wife and family. And coming up here very soon, I will travel to Boston to meet up with Bill, and for him to introduce me to my half-brother, Chris. 

Lastly.  Amidst all of this, is my dad’s side of the family. My Batey, Burbank, and Prouty family. I’ve told a few, quietly. Some will learn of this now in reading this. And that is ok, I am doing it my way. My brothers, aunts and uncles have been happy for me, there to lean on, and gave me the encouragement I needed. The sturdy reminder of “your dad will always be your dad; nothing will ever take that away”. A sentiment Bill also speaks of often, he shows much respect to that man who welcomed me into the world. Phil of course has been my biggest cheerleader, and protector. I wanted and tried to tell my grandmother ahead of our summer trip, but at her late age, it was upsetting, and she quickly asked me to stop sharing. And so, I did, I respected her wishes.

So, there we have it.  Published, shared.  And the sound of two martini glasses clinking.

My dad's leather wallet with my photos tucked inside. I keep it close and reach for it often.

Memories to cherish...

The Indians/Mariner's game we went to on his birthday in 1993, a year before his passing.  A photo on his lap that I cherish, and the memorial card from his funeral.

 

Our first meeting in Jan'23.  Taking Bill for a scenic tour of Lucky Peak reservoir as we get to know one another.  This was our first photo, and we were both astounded - we look alike!  

Our visit to Biloxi, May'23.  Headed off to the casino!

 

Family photo with Bill & Paula