I never updated after my last post about my DNA test.
I can’t say I expected any different. It was a long shot that it would be positive anyway, but I just wanted to be sure I wasn’t missing anything or skipping over a known possibility. I didn’t expect it to be positive, but I can’t say I wasn’t hoping.
I also re-did a DNA test with another man recently. Mostly because the DNA test that was originally done was done in 1990 and I don’t think I quite trust the technology back then enough to trust the results as being accurate. This test, again, while I was hoping it would be positive, I wasn’t expecting it to be. And it wasn’t.
There’s this “song” that Dan showed me when we first started seeing each other. It’s not really a song, not really a poem, but more of a speech tied into the two. “Everybody’s Free to Wear Sunscreen” by Baz Luhrmann. If you haven’t heard it, you should. I find myself relating to it and referring to it in so many different situations, sometimes polar opposites, at so many different points in my life. Perhaps there’s just always a piece that’s relevant.
“The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that
never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm
on some idle Tuesday.”
Well, today wasn’t a Tuesday, but I can say that I’ve been blindsided. I periodically search for David Blanchard. Sometimes for a couple hours here and there. Sometimes for a couple days. Sometimes for a couple weeks. Then I stop for a while. Try again. Rinse, lather, repeat. I have yet to find anything promising; until today.
A couple weeks ago when we were getting ready to leave the house, as I was fighting the never-ending battle of getting the kids to get their shoes on (if they can even find them) and not forget their coats, Maddi out of the blue asked me about my dad.
Maddi: Mommy, did you find your daddy yet?
Me: No. Not yet.
Maddi: Oh. That’s sad. When will you find him?
Me: I don’t know. Probably never.
Maddi: That’s even more sad. He should maybe try to find you so you don’t have to try to find him as hard.
Me: I don’t think he knows about me, so he can’t exactly look for me.
Maddi: I can help you look for him if you want. I’m good at finding things.
Then without a word, she dropped it and went outside to the car. She didn’t bring it up again that day. She just left it at that. My seven-year-old daughter just brought this up out of the blue. And it got me thinking (and depressed) that I really never would find him. I had done everything I knew how to do. I had looked everywhere. Hell, I even had a website for a while called “Find David Blanchard” in a desperate attempt to find him. I couldn’t think of anything else to do that I hadn’t already done. I really and truly believed just a week or so ago, that I would never find him. I would never have the opportunity for closure. I would never know if he really was the last possibility, or even more importantly, if he is my father.
I had no hope.
And then today came. I had a rough day, with rowdy, misbehaving kids, too many errands to run, too many chores to do, a baby who wouldn’t stop screaming her head off on the rare occasion I was attempting to buy myself some clothes, and it just felt like nothing was going my way. I got home to an alert in my email (Google Alerts are an amazing thing) and next thing I know, I have David’s information as well as the woman I assume to be his mother’s staring me in the face. It’s all right there. It’s like I said in a previous blog post. Everything stays the way it is. You keep looking. You don’t make any progress. Everything is the same until suddenly it isn’t. And suddenly, you’re face to face with the thing you’ve been searching for so desperately, confronted with all of those fears and emotions that come along with it. All of the implications it carries. All of it. All of it within a single moment, just staring you right in the face. It is similar to my spider fear, I had to get spider repellents for the whole house so that I can be in peace.
I found him. I know this is him. I don’t know if he is my dad, but I know this is the right man and I know what I need to do. I need to talk to him. I need to take a test. Even if it is negative, I need it to move on. I need it to close this chapter in my life. To make peace with the situation as it is (and as it will always be from that point on) and find closure within myself, whether he is my father or not.
And now the most agonizing part…