I’ve got my story….

My parents divorced when I was young, maybe 5 years old.  Anyway, I can remember when I was slightly older, I would think to myself, if I was a boy, I bet dad wouldn’t have left.  As I grew up, I knew that was a foolish idea.  And as I look at it now, I feel how sad it is for children to think they aren’t enough.  I also know something I didn’t know then.  My birth father wasn’t the man I grew up thinking was my dad.  And I wonder if he knew.  Did he love my mother enough to overlook I wasn’t his biological child?  Or did he believe otherwise?  Considering the limited amount of time I ever spent with my dad growing up, it makes me question how invested he was in me.

There is this thing some people do during their lifetime.  They have a relationship.  And for a while it’s very good.  But eventually, the relationship ends.  Years later, memories have softened, the current life is lacking, and the person wonders how great things would be if they were still with that earlier love.  Some people pursue that dream.  Others just dream about it.  And people like me know for a fact you cannot go back and retrieve a lost relationship.  And that’s how I feel about my family.  I can’t go back.  I can’t meet my biological dad.  I can’t talk to the man I grew up thinking was my father.  And my mother can’t say anything at all.  I think there is a great story in all of this.  Not necessarily a cautionary tale because passion, desire, greed, and anger rule events and restraint and wisdom don’t always occur until a person is much older and oh-so-boring.