Life goes on because it has to, NOT that I wanted it to. I thought about her all of the time. I had my days where I was so angry at her I couldn't see straight. She only lived an hour and a half away, so I contemplated driving to her house. I wanted her to look me in the eyes and tell me what I did wrong, why she was mad, and why she's completely turning her back on me again. I don't know what kept me from doing just that. Some of it was probably fear. I was afraid what I would find if I did that. I finally learned that this was my life now. I was grateful for the time we had together. I decided it was time to move on. It had to.
Over a year had passed since I had last talked to my birth mom. I still thought about her often and wondered where she was and how she was doing, but I moved on the best I could. I stayed busy with my kids, hanging out with my friends, teaching, gardening, and in the summers I helped at a camp that my husband helped direct. Busying myself was, and still is, how I cope with things. Basically, I don't cope, I just stay as busy as I possibly can so I don't have to think. Good plan, right?
Anyway, I was working registration at camp one afternoon with another girl. I overheard the girl I was working with talking to some campers' mom about the same hometown where I was born. Anytime I heard talk about my birthplace, my ears perked up a little. For one, it is in fact where i was born so that sparks some interest. It also is a very small town and if they grew up there, chances are they could very well know about me and my family. I look at them and wonder if somehow I am related to them or if they knew my biological family.
As the mother of the campers was writing a check to pay their camp balance, I asked the girl I was working with what their last name was. She showed me their registration card. I gasped as I read the name on the card. Would you believe me if I told you that they had the SAME last name as my biological dad? Turns out, it was the wife of my biological father and she was registering their three boys....my half brothers. Crazy!!!!
My heart skipped a beat as I was processing all of this. I quickly scoured over the small crowd that was there looking to see if I saw my biological dad. And I did. He was standing about twenty feet away from me, leaning against the wall and talking to a group of people. He caught me looking his way, tilted his hat and smiled at me. (Just being friendly. He didn't have a clue who I was. ) OMG...I could not get over it. What are the odds that this would happen? There in front of me was my DAD! I could not get over it. A million things raced through my mind (of course, my first thought was "I have to call my birth mom! She will not believe this!" I did later that evening. She did not answer or return my call though.)
So, what do you think I did? I'm interested to hear how you all would write the rest of this story. We need to have a little fun in all of this. The last few posts have been pretty depressing! Let me know how you think this encounter ended and I will tell the rest of the story tomorrow!