To My Genetic Father

It was my genetic father's birthday yesterday. It still strikes a lot of emotions. I wrote a "letter that helps you heal, but you never really send" letter. I post it now so I can one day remember it, share my heart with my kids who will read our family blog book, and maybe encourage those who wrestle with the same feelings spurred by the abandonment of a parent. For my friends who have adopted and don't personally understand the feelings of longing for a missing biological parent, may this encourage you to understand your kiddo's heart and know that it, in no way, lessens their love for you as their parents.

***Background: I found my brother on FB and met him about a year ago. It was AMAZING. While we were visiting my brother's house, my biological dad showed up at the door! I am not kidding!



                                                                                                                    October 18, 2010

Dear Eric,

Seeing you at Justin’s house sparked a world of emotions. Did you see me? Did you remember me? Did you even know who I was? It was the first time I really remember seeing your face. If I had not recently seen pictures, I would not have known it was you.

I do remember the last time I saw you. The picture is ingrained in my mind. I was 7 or 8 and you came over to Mom’s apartment. The door opened, and you were there. I saw the outline of your frame as the sun was setting behind you. You were the knight in shining armor there to rescue your little princess. I don’t remember speaking, but I remember my heart screaming out for you to sweep me up on your horse so we could ride off into the distance together. I don’t remember your voice, but I just wanted to hear the words, “I love you. I miss you. Can we spend time together? I want to start being your dad.” I know you never said any of those things; I would not have forgotten. Instead you left a teddy bear. That was all I had of you for the next 23 years.

I made you larger than life. You were the perfect father of my dreams. You could do no wrong; all you had to do was just come back. You never did. God gave me another father just a year or two later. He was a wonderful man. He protected me when boys came to pick me up for dates, quizzed me for tests, grounded me when I broke curfew, danced with me in the living room, took me to his office on “Take Your Daughter to Work Day,” taught me to budget, made sure I got good grades, listened to me, passed on his dry sense of humor and need to plan things out, and walked me down the isle when I got married. He was more than I could have ever hoped for. I didn’t give him the honor or credit he deserved at the time because I was still somehow putting you on a pedestal. It was not until adulthood that I have really come to acknowledge that my dad was named Tom, not Eric.

At the same time, there is something that Tom does not have that you and I share. DNA. When I was young, my mom would always tell me that my hair looked like yours in the summer when the sun gave it golden highlights. When I fill out doctor forms, Tom’s family history doesn’t pertain to me; yours does. There is a connection we have, even if it only took a moment to create. Though you did not earn the title “Dad” in my life, you are and will always be my father.

Once I took you off the throne in my dreams, reality set in. You kept me a secret. It was as if I was something to be ashamed of. I actually felt that for a while until I realized that none of this was my fault. I couldn’t make myself cute enough, sweet enough or smart enough to win your affections. You made a choice not to be my parent totally independent of who I was. I would never meet your expectations because you had none for me. You were not going to be my dad, no matter what. It was sad to realize. It was very freeing at the same time.

With that choice, I was forced to live with the knowledge that I had two siblings that had no idea I even existed. I was raised as an only child. Our family took my friends on vacation because I had no brother or sister to spend time with. It was fun, but I knew there were two kids out there who were growing up without their sister. As I thought about them and wondered what they were like and what they were doing, I was so sad, knowing that they were not wondering about me. Each time they had a birthday, it was another year we would lose. Because you didn’t tell them, I waited until they were “old enough” to handle the news. I heard a little bit from Grandpa John and saw a few pictures. I waited. I wondered.

One day, I saw a picture on Facebook. It was a name I knew, Justin ********. He had a beanie and a charming smile, a beautiful wife, and a precious baby boy all snug together in a hospital bed. As I gazed at the picture of my brother and his family, I wondered if it was time. Was he old enough? Was he ready for the news? I wasn’t sure, but I had to try. I sent him a message and told him the whole story. His reaction was amazing! He was amazing. I tear up even now thinking about how great he has been from the very beginning. I feel like I have known him for years. We are so different. We are so much the same. I feel like the years that you took from us were not lost. You should be very proud of him; you have an amazing son!

I want you to know that I have forgiven you for all you have done. I forgive you for keeping me a secret. I forgive you for not being there. I forgive you for not letting me know other parts of my family. I forgive you for leaving me nothing to hold but a teddy bear. You were young; you were foolish. You were not ready to be a dad. It was never my fault. I know that now. With forgiveness brings much peace and healing.

Now I ask that you extend the same grace to me. Please forgive me for telling your big secret. Please forgive me for reaching out to Justin and rocking the boat. I know there may be repercussions that you had not expected, but that is not my intent. I just waited long enough.

I will always love you because I am a part of you. I will always be thankful for how God used you to make me the person that I am. I am not asking for you to be my dad; I have an amazing dad. I just ask that you admit something that happened so very long ago. I don’t want Justin and his wife to be uncomfortable if you come to the door when I am at their house. I don’t want my brother, grandfather and aunt to have to hide me. It is just silly. It was so long ago. You made a mistake. It is over. Don’t keep acting like I am something shameful.

Whenever you read this, remember that I am your daughter. I was a little girl with big dreams of you. Now I am a woman, wife and mother who know the reality. You will always be my father. We cannot change the past 31 years, but you can choose how to spend the rest. 

Your Daughter,

Amber