My Biological Father’s Wife.

I deleted the last post because I decided my impressions of my biological father’s wife were irrelevant. She is certainly troubled and my heart goes out to her.

I spoke with her for two hours on Wednesday night and while it was confusing at times, she confirmed quite a lot of information. There were a couple of discrepancies but time often clouds our memories.

I did find out that he had quite an alchohol problem which I already knew. Sadly, it affected his job, marriage, and relationships with a lot of people. She told me he could be quite outgoing but as the evening wore on he would get darker, violent and mean. She also told me he drank every day, all day. His poison was budweiser, vodka and three packs of pall mall unfiltered cigarettes. She said he was always very thin because he never ate and she thought he had experimented with alchohol as far back as grade school.

He did know that I had been born and he knew I was a boy but he never thought I would be able to locate him. She said that they had discussed it several times and she always felt I would turn up someday. Sadly, she told me that she thought it was probably for the best that I didn’t meet him. She said “he was incapable of loving people and he would have just hurt you”. She mentioned that she felt everything happens for a reason and his early death may have been to put him out of his misery.

They split up about a year before he died but they never divorced.  She had assumed he had violated parole again and was in prison. I think he had left her and was living on the streets of Austin at that point.

Oddly, she had no idea where he was buried. How crazy that after 46 years I am the one telling his wife where his ashes are buried? I did tell her that his family had no idea he was married again. His death certificate says he was divorced.

Anyway, I am going to send her some pictures of him. She claims to have some pictures of him to send me but I don’t know if that is true or just ramblings. I hope she follows through. I finally got her to call me after two years so there is some hope.

All in all, I feel good about the call. No revelations and a lot confirmations. I don’t know when he became so damaged…his high school friends always speak so highly of him. I have this nagging, chilling feeling deep down inside that my birth and adoption changed him dramatically. His heart hardened.

It appears that the damage done really did a number on both of my birth parents.  I feel sad and guilty that a little baby could be the cause of so much trouble and sorrow.

I guess I need to take a few days and just grieve for my dad. I hope he is finally resting in peace.

Birth Father Thoughts.

For some reason, I started sorting through my search and reunion box this morning. I looked at pictures of my biological father and read through some of the old court transcripts. Some of you will remember he drifted out west to work on oil rigs and had a few brushes with the law.

I keep going back to the address of the woman he was possibly married to out in Baytown, Texas. I tried to call her several times and got a late night message back. My last letter was returned due to an insufficient address but I have since located the full address. I wonder if a handwritten letter would be less intimidating. I tend to do all my letters on the computer due to poor handwriting skills but that may be a little frightening to her. I think a handwritten letter also stands out a little more.

I am not sure if the hurricaine and all the talk of oil rigs has jogged my feelings. For some reason, he sticks in my mind. Unfinished business. Keeping his memory alive.

I also recently recieved an address for the hospice who cared for him as well as a nursing home he died in. I don’t know if there would be anyone who would remember him. Is it worth a shot?

I wonder why I keep going through these phases. It feels like a loose end. I find this ironic because I was nothing but loose ends until recently!

I am also thinking of another trip out west to visit my abrother in Austin. I could catch a flight to Baytown easy enough and go bang on her door. It’s a thought.

Storms Coming In.

We have a major snowstorm headed to New England this afternoon but today is my last day of work before I head out on medical leave. I have a few reports to get in but I kept up with everything so I am right where I should be.

Last week the doctor decided that my surgery to reconstruct my left eardrum would be inpatient instead of day surgery. I have to show up at the hospital on Sunday at 9:00 a.m., the surgery is Monday at 9:00 a.m. and she thinks I will be released Tuesday.

I have come to grips with the surgery. I’ll be floating off to never-never land so what do I care? The last time I went under the knife I remember taking a few deep breaths and it seemed like seconds later they were asking if I could open my eyes.

My birth mom is just beside herself over all this. She wants to come down and visit at the hospital while I am sitting around waiting on Sunday. I don’t think she needs to make a four hour round trip just for this but she is pretty stubborn. I realize this is primarily due to the sudden passing of my half brother D. back in May of last year. I am trying to remember that.

With all due respect to the mothers out there, this is where it gets awkward. Although I always enjoy seeing her, I feel like this is too much. Over the line. While I completely understand her need to “mother” me, I still have this little bit of resentment that it was so difficult for her to decide to meet me. But how much of this is my own fault if I never set the boundaries? All my warm and fuzzy “there is room for everybody” talk.

I think I still have this deep down nagging feeling that she didn’t care where I was for 45 years. I also think my experiences with some of my birth dad’s side has soured me. I am beginning to realize that my maternal grandparents didn’t want B. marrying into the family for a reason. They weren’t quirky or eccentric…they were pretty miserable.

I don’t really know what to expect at the hospital and this pressure of B. being there is wigging me out. I tried telling her I wanted to save her visit until I felt better but she isn’t taking no for an answer. She wants to drive down with a work friend “who knows everything”which makes me feel like a freak show. Is she bringing the friend to show that she is a good mother after all?

Her sister and brother in law completely warned me that she might just show up. I should have heeded the warnings. I thought about calling her son or daughter for some advice or help. I’ll think about that today.

Note: I don’t want the mothers out there being upset. This is just me venting, being spoiled and just down right ugly for a little while.