A Christmas Gift from my “Father”

I called Donal, my biological father, today.  Though he has a Facebook account, he doesn’t use it, so his brother, my Uncle David, had told me that he would wait and let me tell Donal about Drew proposing and us moving back to the west coast area this summer.

He was cheerful when he answered.  I told him all about the proposal.  I told him he could see the video on Facebook, the next time he’s over at Uncle David’s.

He has home nurse, now.  I don’t know how often she’s there or how long she stays, but I have her number now.  He said, “Her name is Jenny, too.”

At first, I thought he was just pointing out the similarity.  Jenny/Jenna, they are very close.  But after he repeatedly forgot who certain people were, I jokingly asked him if he remembered my name.

“Yeah, it’s Jenny.”

😣🙄😢😣🙄😢😣🙄😢😣🙄😢

I don’t know why this should matter to me.  I keep telling myself that the man is likely autistic and has never been diagnosed.  And after talking to him, this evening, I’m pretty sure he’s showing signs of dementia.

It still hurts my feelings, though.   In nearly 49 years of being his offspring, he hasn’t learned my name?  Granted, we’ve only been in each other’s physical presence fewer than 10 times, but I’ve always known his name.  It’s not Donald with a D.  It’s Donal.

Names have always been important to me.  Ever since fourth grade when my teacher refused to call me Jenna, because the name on my birth certificate was Virginia.  She changed my name for me.  That was the first time in my life anyone other than doctors had ever called me Virginia.  But it stuck.  All the kids called me Virginia, and it followed me throughout high school and college.  I always felt like I had two identities.

It was even worse after I got married.  My bachelor’s degree has a first name and a last name that I do not even acknowledge.

And now Drew and I will be getting married, and I have always said that I will never change my name again.  So I will hyphenate.

This is mostly just me blowing off steam, because I have no one to talk to at the moment.  Thanks for listening/reading/etc.

Do me a favor, if you’re going to leave a comment, please don’t defend him.   There’s nothing that you can say to me that I haven’t already said to myself.  I’m really just looking for someone to say, “That sucks.  I’m sorry,” because it does suck.