So there it was, his real full name and date of birth, just staring at me from the pink paper.  I was a bundle of nerves and was actually shaking.  I knew that once I started down this path there would be no return and I needed to catch my breath for a moment or two before I took to my computer.  Life as I knew it was going to change in a matter of minutes and there was no way to really prepare for it.  I banged out the name on my keyboard, the first hit was to a site that had a picture of a Grave Marker, my biological father’s grave marker as well as his wife’s.

I sat there in a trance, looking at the computer screen and before I knew it was crying almost hysterically.  Perhaps deep down I was hoping this was one fact my Mother lied about, the fact that he was dead.  That was not the case.  To this day I am not really sure why I cried.  All I knew was in that moment I felt a great sense of loss and sadness, overwhelmingly so.  But how could that be?  I did not even know this man and according to my mother, he and I never met.  Another fact which is questionable, but I will save that for later.

After a few moments I decided to see if I could find anyone related to him.  This was going to be hard, cold calling, explaining who I was and hoping I would get an individual that had a clue as to what I was talking about.  Forty plus years is a long time and people do forget.  First call out of the gate I hit pay dirt.  Her name was Anita, she was Alan’s daughter, my half sister.  Before I got two sentences out she said she knew who I was and had known about me since she was 5 or 6 years old.  I couldn’t believe it.  It seems like the whole damn world knew about me and my situation, EXCEPT me!  What she said next threw me for a loop, she asked where my twin sister was.  A twin?  What twin?  As far as I knew I did not have a twin.  So I asked her if she had my Brother (Alan’s son) confused with a twin.  That went over like a lead weight.  She knew nothing of a baby boy and I had dropped a bomb on her.  I felt horrible.  Apparently she was under the impression that my mother and Alan’s affair was very short lived, her hearing about my brother, his age and adoption really upset her because she realized it was not a fly by night relationship.  Great I thought, just what I did not want to do, upset his family.  After we chatted for a few minutes, she gave me my three half brothers names.  Two were very cordial and inquisitive with me.  We talked for hours and it could not have gone any better.  My one brother wanted no parts of knowing me or even talking to me, even over a year later I have not spoken to him.  I understand his misgivings and respect his decision.  I was already fortunate that the remaining three were so forthcoming.

Over the next few days I received a few pictures of Alan.  He was quite the handsome man, dark hair, blue eyes, olive complexion and beautiful smile.  I can see why my mother fell for him.  I can also see where some of my features come from and that made me happy because for so long I felt like the odd duck in my family.  Although I had been told I looked like my Uncle Maynard, my mothers brother, I still always felt different.  Even days and weeks later I could not help but still feel and overwhelming sense of sadness about my father.  It is very hard to explain the feeling of finding him and losing him in a matter of 35 minutes.  I also felt sad for my brother, who was searching for him in 1988 only to be told by my mother that he was dead, when in all actuality, he did not die until 1993.  Then there was the loss of never knowing any answers to all the questions that I have and never knowing his side of the story. Nearly everyone associated with this fiasco from the 1960’s has passed away, except my mother, and my father’s sister Nancy, who lived in Alabama.  She was next on my list to call but first I had to get the ball rolling to see if there was any truth to my having a twin.  And so the plot thickens…..