Day 3: The Answer

I waited by the window watching cars and trucks pass by my hotel's parking lot. 5:00 PM had come and gone, and I started getting the feeling that he wasn't going to show. I really didn't want to have to make this harder than it already was, but I didn't come here and go through hell not to see him. I figured I'd let the clock run down to 7:00 PM and if I hadn't heard from him I'd head to his house. Then my hotel room phone rang at 5:45. It was him, "I'm at the bar down the street if you want to come by." I said I was on my way. This threw me off a little. I had been all prepared to have him walk into my room and deal with this here. But I grabbed car keys and the pictures I had brought of my family and headed over to the bar.

Ironically, or maybe not so much, this was the bar I was in yesterday. The feeling I had was incredible, knowing that as I walked up to the entrance all my years of wondering and speculating were going to come to an end. I'm finally going to see a face and not a blank spot where one should be. There were two men sitting at the bar, and one sitting alone at a table. I walked up to the man sitting alone with a beer and introduced myself. "Thank you for coming." I said. He asked if I was going to have a drink. I walked over to the bar just as the bartender was coming around to bring me a beer, the same brand I had been drinking the day before. I shook my head no, and asked for a Crown on ice. The two guys at the bar started giving me accolades for my choice. "Now that's how you drink!" one of them said. I walked back over to the table and sat down. I could clearly see that this was my father. The deep brown eyes and black hair. I felt like I was looking into my own eyes. It was a feeling I had never known before. I will try and relay as many of the details and conversation as well as I can.

Son (that'd be me): I know this was hard for you and I want you to know that I appreciate your effort.

Dad: I don't understand you. What is it you want?

Son: I want to see what you look like. I want questions I have answered. Every child has a right to know who they're parents are and what they look like.

Dad: Well take a good look because this is what you'll look like in 30 years. So what do you want to know?

At this I proceeded to ask every question I had ever had. I wanted his version of the story about how his affair with my mother went, and why it ended the way it did. I was very surprised with myself, I thought that when this moment in my life came that I'd be emotional, but I was very cool and collective. I'm pretty sure the whiskey helped. I learned a lot about my father and about myself that night. At first he was standoffish, and didn't want to say much. But I told him I didn't know if I'd ever see him again, so these were the things that needed to be addressed. At one point after telling him about myself he says, "I'd say I'm proud of you, but I don't really have that right." At least he knows that it would be a right. I learned about my heritage and descendents on his side. He told me that he did think of me from time to time, but felt there wasn't anything he could do. He didn't want to hurt his family so it was always just left alone.

He asked me twice at different times if I had ever talked to his sons, and I said no. This is a half truth, or half lie, as I hadn't actually spoken to his sons but I had emailed one of them a few times about five years ago. So his one oldest son does know for sure. But he also lied to me about where his sons are now. I guess it is because of his fear that I would try find them still and talk to them. He told me that in his first 10 years of marriage he did a lot of "wandering". In fact I found out that he had only been married for nine months before starting an adulterous affair with my 17 year old mother at the time. So this leads me naturally to my next question. "Do you have any other illegitimate children?"

He says, "Yes. One even older than you are. He was born before I was married though. I was 18 at the time." He told his name, and that he does talk to him about every six months. His family knows about him of course. I found this very interesting to learn. For the first time in my life I am no longer the oldest out of my siblings. Strange feeling. I know I will one day meet this new person I’ve learned about.

We talked about a lot of things. Well actually, I did the majority of the talking. I asked him what kind of father he had been for the boys as they grew up. What they did for recreational activities, and did they spend much time together as a family. These were all things I had wondered about over the years. He said he didn’t understand my reasons for wanting to meet him or pursue knowledge of him and his sons. He said he didn’t come from a close family and that even his immediate family wasn’t very close.

I told him about my life, and how hard it was growing up without know who I was or where I came. To have a half of my self always feel incomplete. I’m nearly 30 now. I told him that the days of me needing someone to throw a ball with in the backyard are long gone. I don’t want or need any monetary support. What I need is answers to my questions and closure to this part of my life. I told him my children will reach a point when they’ll start asking me questions about my life, and I’ll need to tell them something. I can’t shrug my shoulders because I don’t know the answers to things they may be curious about. So this was my attempt to finally fill the giant hole in my life and move on. If this was all I’d ever have or know, then I’ll be content. Knowing that I went out on my own to find answers to the questions I had. Knowing that only I could.

It was during our conversation of his family and its closeness, or lack there of, that he says to me, “This is the longest I’ve talked one on one to any of my children.” He says this after only two hours of conversation. How sad. I can’t imagine not spending more than a few hours with my kids. I look forward to the time when I can sit and visit with my sons for hours on end.

After a while he really seemed to warm up to me. He kept saying things like, “I have a feeling we be seeing each other again.” I told him that I wasn’t here to try and make him have a father-son relationship with me. If I never saw or spoke to him again, I could be content. I said that he has to make up his mind as to what he wants to do, and I’m fine with whatever he comes up with.

I could go on and on, after all we did talk straight for about four hours. But in short, things went very well. Better than I had even expected. I felt a sense of calmness and contentment.

He told me that he wished I didn’t have to leave the next day, and would like to spend some more time with me. I told him that if he wanted, I would postpone my flight one day. But he had to go home and talk to his wife first. I gave him the option to call me by 8 AM the next day to let me know. I needed to know early because I had four hour drive back to Winnipeg to catch my flight. As we said our goodbyes, I reached out to shake his hand. When he grabbed my hand he pulled me towards him and gave me hug. This was very foreign to me. I never thought I’d ever have been able to hug my dad. I thought maybe it was the alcohol, but maybe it wasn’t.

The next day 8 AM came and went, and I never heard from him. But that was Okay. I checked out of my hotel and started the drive back. For the first two hours of my drive I simply recounted our conversations in my head. Usually I’d have music blaring, I hate silence when driving. But this was what I needed. I left that little town knowing so much more about myself. The last few weeks of really being troubled, and the difficulty of the last few days especially were well worth it!

I almost fee like a different person. Maybe I am.