Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Happy Father's Day

All drama is best punctuated with a pause for a cigarette.

Or at least that it was I learned from my countless hours of watching Days of Our Lives. When AC got up abruptly from the table, I thought that she was just going for the Oscar. I looked pensively at my cousin Pam. "What does that mean? Is my father not my dad? What do you know?" I gazed out on the patio and saw the red embers glow.

Pam just looked at me. "I don't know, but I think you better find out."

When confronted with questionable paternity, I imagine the appropriate response would be confusion, denial, anger? I was simply giddy with the possibility. Delighted. I had spent many hours trying to put the pieces together in such a way that would lead to my father not being my dad. After a rogue internet quiz to determine my unborn son's eye color, I was met with an error message. It was impossible that I would have green eyes with two blue eyed parents, so saith the free internet geneticists. Did my mom have an affair? That would mean that it would have been a lengthy affair--my sister and I are undeniably related. Two peas in a pod. Adopted? I had seen pictures of my mom glowing in pregnancy. I was stumped.

AC came back in from the patio. She looked worn. "So, what do you know?"

What do I know? What do I know? I had popped off with a "When are you going to tell me my dad is not my dad?" in response to the latest tally of family secrets that had been revealed in the past year. I didn't imagine that I would be face to face with my own great reveal. Where were the video cameras?

AC started the tale, haltingly. After trying for a while, my mother went to a fertility doctor. This I knew. I remember her telling me how she had taken her temperature, the disappointments. I knew I was I wanted to child. I just didn't know that it wasn't her with the 'issue.' It was my dad. They decided to use a donor. I had no idea how wanted I was.

It was always to be a secret. As my family rolls with the secrets, only a few people were even told and were sworn to secrecy. AC started crying. She felt like she was betraying her sister.

I realized that the big reveal was all that I would know. AC apparently was not privy to any details about my "donor dad." I guess at some point, I will have to bite the bullet and call my dad.

On her way out to light another cigarette, she asked if Dave would be okay with the news. I giggled (wasn't I the one who she should worry about?) and she retreated to the patio. I watched the red dot glow, my head spinning to make sense of it all. I wondered if I should have joined her.


Jill said...

Wowza, Kristy.

(Oh, and also, this is beautifully written. And also also, I met Emily D. last weekend. She was all, "I was in TFA in Baltimore," and I was all, "I know one person who did that..." and apparently you are a completely phenomenal teacher who was an amazing mentor to her, which does not surprise me in the least.)

Kari said...

Tell me you are going to write a memoir someday. Good. It's settled then.

Anonymous said...

yes, my head is spinning about this too. well said!

Anonymous said...

that was me who said that my head is spinning in the previous anonymous comment. In addtion to spinning, I would also add (for me persnally) fried and aging. With a side of injured wrist. Lynn H.

Emily said...

Glad to see the return to blogging! was only a matter of time before your part in the soap opera was revealed. This is beautifully told.

Kathleen said...

holy moly.