The following is a condensed version of a part of my life from 1975 to current. Some names are changed to protect the guilty. My son and I are who we are. I have added pictures of the two of us. Current events have led me to write this blog. I hope both humor and sarcasm can be found in this writing.
When I was 18, I had my first child. I was young and alone. An unwed mother in small town USA. Labeled by some a whore; even the father. According to the father, "she slept with so many I don't know who the father is." This was quoted to me by the social worker assigned to my case as I was getting state funds to pay for the deliver my child. Even in the 70's the state would attempt to get the biological father to pay child support. When I heard these words my world shattered. Never, in my young 18 years did I expect to hear these words. Had I expected that response, I would not have given his name, I would have claimed ignorance and given myself the label rather than have him give it to me. I was in love with the man that had given me that label and now those words were written in permanent files in state records. Lovely. Hideous. Hurtful. Searing Pain. I had never been hurt so deeply in my young adult life. This story gets worse. Trust me. much worse.
I was raised by my dad. He was the original Mr. Mom and "sex" was taboo in our household. I only had one real date and after that I was never allowed to date again. Nothing went wrong. The date was GREAT. Thanks T.E. may you R.I.P. Dad just freaked out and dates were then outlawed so I had to sneak out on all future dates. Yep, the world of sneaking officially began. During the fall of 1975 my dad's older sister, Aunt Myrtle, was diagnosed with Brain cancer. She was sent to a hospital about two hours away and I was elected to stay with her. Every thing was fine between me and sperm donor name caller (from here on out to be referred to as Name Caller). At this point I must remind my readers that there were no cell phones back then and long distance rates were outlandish so there was simply no communication during emergencies like this, when you were dating a jerk, but this is hind site speaking, I was in love. I digress. From November to January, I spent most of my time in Pensacola Florida. I did not hear a word from Mr. Name Caller in all of December or January.
In January I started getting so sick, I racked it up to stress due to driving back and forth to Pensacola and the stress of Aunt Myrtle's brain surgery and lack of sleep. I had not bothered to realize I had skipped a couple of periods. Well, I soon realized I was pregnant. And soon after discovered that my beloved had returned to his ex who was also pregnant. BOMBSHELL. Had to tell daddy.
Daddy did not take the news so well. He was crushed and I could not stand the disappointment I saw in his face. I moved to my mother's home in Louisiana. While living with my mom, I received a letter from Name Caller. He indicated we could work out our relationship and he wanted the child. I returned to my Daddy's home. Things did not work out with Name Caller as I recall by the time I got back he had another girl friend or had went back to the same one again. This guy had no problem jumping from girl to girl. I wanted to save the letter as proof for my child that he was not conceived in a one night stand but my future husband found it years later and destroyed it. What makes men so stupid? I guess that is an over generalization. What makes most men so stupid? My daddy (PaPa) received me back into his home with open arms and the idea of being a grandparent appealed to him. I love my dad. He passed away in 1993. He was my rock. He supported me in all ways. In fact, while in the hospital after giving birth to my son, he told me he was proud of the way I held my head up throughout my pregnancy. He was the greatest grandfather too. My grown children are convinced he walked on water.
So back to the Name Caller. I took my son to see him after he was born to let him see that he looked just like him. I soon married a good man. A man that took my son for his own. After I married, Name Caller decided he would accept my son as his own, but I had not listed him on the birth certificate, I put, "father unknown," just as had reported himself. So there was no proof of paternity. I asked the social worker what I could do to stop him. She said my husband could adopt. So lickity-split, my then husband adopted him and it was a sealed adoption. If the father is not known, there is no one to contest. It was done. His daddy was now known. I was no longer a whore and Brandon was legitimate. There you go!
Forward several years:
I now had three children Brandon and his two sisters. Happy little family. I had a strong desire to get my son away from all half siblings running around the county. Brandon and his sisters had been raised knowing that he was adopted by daddy. They knew they had the same mommie but different daddy. Enough said. I read somewhere that one should give children just enough information to satisfy. Name Caller by now had married again and had a daughter. I did not want to have a disaster of my son falling in love with a sister he did not know existed or something terrible like that. So he had two brothers and a sister he had no idea existed because Name Caller denied him before birth and I can't get over it! And I still secretly pined over Name Caller. But I liked my life and LOVED my children. So a move out of state was made after I attained a college degree and a job was secured.
While making the move into a new home. PaPa was watching the children, my husband was hunting, I was unpacking our new home out of state, wait my husband made a change in plans, he visited the kids, he sent them outside to play, PaPa was cooking. Brandon was run down by a drunk driver. The girls witnessed. Lives were ruined. Divorce was inevitable. PaPa was guilt-ridden the rest of his life.
Fast Forward several years:
In 1991: Things were rocky between me and my husband. The accident had reeked havoc on the marriage and entire family in general. My oldest daughter fought with her dad all the time. She was so close to her brother and blamed her father for the accident. Our family had been in and out of counseling. He could not discuss it with her, nor could he take any responsibility for the events of that horrific day. She saw it markedly different. The accident left Brandon severely disabled. He suffered global brain damage. Thus he was left with balance, speech, memory, digestive, and learning problems. On one particular day my oldest daughter was angry with her dad and spouted, "I would like to meet my real dad," then Brandon stated with his difficult to understand speech, "me too." And, he began to hound me to let him meet his real dad. This began a daily request. Sometimes hourly. I sent this request to parties in Alabama that could fulfill this request for Brandon.
From 1975 to 1991 the pain was tamped down. I had not gotten over the hurt and rejection. My son did not know he had been rejected and I will never tell him. When my son was in ICU and comatose a nurse asked me what I intended to do with him. I looked at her with a confused look, as I had been by his side for weeks, and stated, "I took responsibility at conception." I then told her to never ask me that question again. Brandon is mine. I want the world to love him. But the world is not kind. I want him to have friends. I want him to have a life that is worth living. I don't want him rejected......again. One day Mr. Caller should have the decency to apologize to me for putting me through the embarrassment of being told those unkind and hurtful words by that social worker.
A meeting was arranged. The donor Name Caller was there, his wife, a half sister, a couple of half brothers my daughters and some mutual friends. One brother refused to meet Brandon stating he was not his real Brother. He brought Brandon a few small gifts which included a small photo album. They took photos together including one of his youngest half brother was just a setting on his lap. Brandon has not asked about the Name Caller again. His curiosity was satisfied. He looks at the album, which is falling apart, from time to time. He knows Mr. Caller's real name. He does not know he has brothers or a sister. I have no idea how many more may be out there. You see, Brandon has short term memory problems and in order for anything to be stored into long term memory it must be repetitive.
Fast Forward:
Two years ago we moved back to small town USA from Maui Hawaii due to my health issues. By now I had attained a Masters Degree in Psychology with and emphasis in Behavior Analysis. My specialty is Autism and Developmental delays. Life had been pretty good to Brandon in Maui. Life back in small town USA not so much. Nothing to do. My physical therapist mentioned a Miracle league baseball team was starting up and suggested we try this for him. Wow, it has been wonderful, the past six weeks he has had something to look forward to. We have had a subject matter worth talking about. On the last regular game of the spring season a woman came up to Brandon and started talking to him. She asked him if he remember her. People always assume he will remember, and he acts like he does. He is a good actor. Brandon is 36 now. He loves baseball and he is a pretty good player. So, she looked at me and said, "He looks more like him than any of the other boys."
I was stunned. I didn't remember her. Having been away for so long I don't possess many memories for the people of this area. I don't even remember much of my relationship with Name Caller. But I do remember the pain. I remember it took 20 years to get over the rejection. I remember it took me 20 years to be able to hold my head up in this small town USA. I never could tell my daddy I was faking it. Now I know I was just stupid. I digress. This sweet, concerned lady, it turned out was the then wife, now ex wife, of the Name Caller. She goes on to tell me that the baby sitting in Brandon's lap is her son, and he has been to the games to watch his nephew and has seen Brandon.
Now decisions must be made. Brandon needs people in his life. He has one cousin that lives nearby but is too busy raising his own children to have time for him. Brandon's sisters live in Orlando and Maui. What if I invite this person into Brandon's life and he refuses. What if he comes into his life and then leaves? Is it worth any hurt that may come his way? Can I handle the pain it might cause him? Can I handle another rejection? It won't really be my rejection but can I handle it? Will it open old wounds. Surely, I am no longer the girl of 18 or 28 or 38 and I am strong enough to handle what this may bring. I have been over Name Caller for a long time now. I am much more educated and secure in myself.
So, I have invited the child that once sat in his lap to meet Brandon, but we must discuss details. Will we tell Brandon they are brothers? Time will tell. Will he actually show up? Brandon won't develop memories on the first meeting or two or five so let's wait and see. How bout that? There you go!
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| Mother's Day Flowers |
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| Chillin' |
Honestly, I would not trade my life for another. I have lived a life like no other. I have experienced natural highs so blissful that can only be experienced when your lows have taken you past the dept of what can only be imagined as the extreme depths of hell.
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