Remember that last post about how I was getting my paternal half sister Sara to test her DNA so I could confirm we actually had the same dad (Gord)....
Well...no match. Not even one stupid little DNA thingy.
You can imagine that was a bit of a surprise...
A little overwhelming for a bit until I started rationalizing it all. Gord has never given me the time of day and was not a whole lot different with his other kids so there is no real loss there - aside from the the strange comfort of just knowing where you come from...that I took for granted...clearly.
It was a little sad to have to have this talk with Sara and acknowledge there was no familial connection after all...her and I have been pals for 17 yrs, since I first contacted Gord by mail. In all that time he has never spoken to me, he simply handed my letter to Sara (who was a teenager at the time) and washed his hands of it all. Sara and I kept in touch and I got to know Gord's sister Isobel, who has been a lovely aunty to me. Gord's other family or children never made contact. These 2 ladies were very warm and welcoming, despite the strange situation.
See, when I was 8 my mother was on one of her world destruction tours with me in tow and we were in Prince George (where I was born) and she took me to a man's house...all I really recall about it was he had a budgie in a cage and I was enamoured with it and he taught me some yo yo tricks. We left and as we were driving back to my grandparents house she told me "That was your real dad you know..." - only I thought the man I called Dad (Don) was my dad...they married when I was 3. I was really confused...it was not until we were back home in AB that I asked Lisa (Don's older daughter who was 3-4 years older than me) what it all meant and she explained that Don was HER dad not mine...that I was already born when my mom and her dad got married.
Light bulb went off. That is why she always used to mutter to me that he was more her dad than mine...I thought she did it just to piss me off and start a fight - but clearly she was just marking her territory. Many things suddenly made sense...esp later when it was glaringly apparent Don favored his own children over me. At some point after learning the truth I did receive a letter and photo from Gord....which has long since been destroyed via some teenage angst and rage. There was never any further contact until I wrote him when I was 30 or so...so you see...this is not a devastating piece of information really.
A conversation with my mother was in order...I was supposed to be going up to visit family and was scheduled to see her the following evening but this little nugget of info was something that needed to be addressed ahead of time...I was not feeling like a phone call would be a great idea...my mom is not famous for her sensitive tone and I was feeling like it would end in a giant GFY from me potentially...so I texted. I know that sounds so friggin lame and chicken shit but it was really the safest. To make a long story short....she doesn't know who my dad is if it is not Gord so....That was that. I did not go visit her while I was in town...too fresh.
My mom was 16 when she got pregnant with me. A year prior she had an accident and cracked her head open falling down some stairs...very serious. Her memory is very sketchy from back then, typical brain injury stuff, her brain was still healing...the effects from this brain injury have plagued me my whole life...no one talked about brain injury back then but looking back on my life with her I can see very clearly how her decision making abilities and coping mechanisms were impaired. I have often pondered wtf she was thinking during certain world tours of destruction of yesteryear and a brain injury makes it all add up.
The only way I am going to have chance to figure out who my donor is if I get a close paternal DNA match online. Thus far the closest paternal matches I have are 3rd cousins and they are too distant to really figure anything out...plus most of them do not even answer messages. I am lucky that I have Kim's (my maternal half sister) DNA, it enables me to figure out which of my matches are maternal and paternal.
So, this is it...I wait around to see if I ever get a close enough match to investigate. Pretty good chance I will never know who it is since it is clear he has no idea he even has a random kid out there...plus he is likely in his 60's like my mother or already dead so....I get the odds of this mystery ever being solved are pretty slim.
I am fairly level headed about this but I am feeling some bitterness brewing. Despite giving my mom a lot of leeway here due to reasons previously mentioned it pisses me off that heading into my late 40's I could be sitting on stage at the Maury Povich show and fitting right in. The resentment and bitterness I hold dear to my heart for my mother - to my own detriment always - is an unfaltering beacon of rage that sits just below the surface...I keep stuffing it down, stuffing it down...b/c I feel like if it ever gets unleashed I will end up in prison or in a hospital...for a rest....with meds and padded walls. Dramatic? Perhaps... but not that unrealistic all things considered.
Very frustrating..slightly embarrassing.....and still fresh.
SIDENOTE: When Sara told her dad Gord about all of this he said he did not think I was his kid all along...but since no one ever asked him for money he never bothered to deal with any of it. Thanks asshole.