How many entries and I going to have to title “Negative?” This will probably be the last one, considering there isn’t much left for me to look for. This was the last name she gave me. This was supposed to be the last one. She swore up and down, it was one of those names. There were absolutely no other possibilities, it had to be one of these names on that tiny yellow sticky note she handed me. It just had to be one of them.
Well, it wasn’t.
And now I’m pretty sure I’m never going to know who my father is, and odds are, whoever he is, he’s never going to know he has a daughter, or three granddaughters and a grandson. It sucks. Her selfishness and lack of responsibility and accountability has robbed not only me of knowing who my father is, but this man of knowing he has a child and even grandchildren. Maybe he’d have no interest in us; David sure didn’t, but even so, he has been denied the opportunity to make that choice for himself. And that? That is wrong.
When my mother gave me those names, I had doubts that they were even real names. For a very long time I doubted their validity. Then I found one. And that one confirmed the other. I started thinking that maybe, just maybe, my mother had told the truth. She was really trying. She was actually trying to be honest with me and help me. When the first test from the list was negative, I was crushed and I was angry, but I gave her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it was the other man. I can’t get angry if she gave me their names but the first one came up negative. I kept thinking, “Okay. I’ll find them all, and then, if they’re all negative, then I’ll get mad. Then I’ll let her know what I think.”