It Wasn't Long Enough

Seven years ago, I went to see the movie October Baby. It is a movie about a young woman who finds out that she is the survivor of a failed abortion. She also finds out that she was adopted. A dear friend had recommended this movie to me because we are family created through adoption. She had no idea the impact that it would have on ME, though. You see, at twenty-eight years old, I had never met my biological father. I will stop at this point and say that I am not the survivor of an abortion, but a lot of the feelings that the main character (Hannah) feels, I too have felt. When I watched the movie the first time, I sat in the theater and cried. I wept through the entire movie. By the end of the movie, I vowed that I WOULD find my father this time. I had made the decision many times before, but I had chickened out. Fear is a very powerful thing. I couldn't handle the thought that he would reject me. I went home and searched for him. I finally found the info I needed to contact him. The first couple times I called, I didn't get an answer. I had almost let the fear I felt stop me from contacting him, but then God brought this song into my life. It is called "The Right Time." It is a love song about the artist's relationship with his wife, but the words resonated with me because of my relationship with my father. With tears once again flooding my shirt, I knew then and there that I couldn't allow the fear I had overtake me and keep me from doing what I had to do. I finally contacted him.

On May 20, 2012, I sat in an abandon parking lot waiting to meet my Dad for the first time. I have many character flaws, but one of them is that I have to be exceptionally early to any place I go. This day was no exception. I think I got there at least an hour before the time we agreed to meet. As I write this, I can still see and feel everything from that day. I was so scared. I had already told my husband that he was going to hate me (another character flaw - chronically low self-esteem) before I left the house. I prayed. I fought the urge to run. I fought the urge to puke. We repeated all of this until he finally showed up. Ok, there was no way I could run now. I got out of the van to everything I had dreamed about my entire life. I finally had my Daddy. We talked for a while. It was very awkward, but it was beautiful. I met his beautiful wife - the lady I would come to know as my Bonus Mama. I met one of my sisters. She was (is) also very beautiful. I gave him a photo album before I left that day. My sister took pictures of us. Before I left, he hugged me.

Monday night, December 23, 2019, I received a Facebook message from my sister telling me that Dad was in the hospital and he was in very bad shape. I told her I would be there first thing the next morning. I spent a lot of the next day (Christmas Eve) at the hospital. The news wasn't what any of us had hoped. We found out that his condition wasn't improving. They had to wait until the next day to do brain scans to confirm, but they were pretty sure that his brain would never recover (yes, I am dancing around that phrase because I cannot bring myself to say it.) The next day (Christmas Day) the scans were done. We met with the doctor who confirmed what we already knew. Our dad would never be coming back to us. Each of us took turns going in to say what we needed to before Dad would make his journey to Heaven. Dad made his journey to Heaven as his wife and I held his hands. That was one of the hardest things I have ever done, but it was something I will cherish forever. He wasn't there for my first breath, but I was there for his last.

Our relationship is something I will always cherish. He was a man of few words with me. We struggled to find our place in each others' lives. We exchanged many hugs over the next few years. There was so much I wish I had said to him. He never told me he loved me, but I said it many times. We never addressed the elephant in the room while he was here. I do not know his side of things.  I was so afraid to address the hard stuff for fear that he would shut me out. Now, the whys and what ifs of yesterday seem less important.  I do wish I would have heard him say I love you. At his bedside, his wife told me that they talked about me often and that he really did love me. I guess he loved me the only way he knew how. I wish I would have had the courage to tell him I forgave him for the choices he made that led to me not being a part of his life. Maybe he wouldn't have cared, but I do think he needed to hear it. At the very least, I needed him to hear me say it. There is so much I wish he could hear me say. I didn't start loving him seven years ago. I loved him my entire life. I dreamed and hoped and prayed. I am so grateful for the time that I got with him, but it wasn't long enough. It wasn't nearly long enough.

I've learned the unknown ain't as scary as you think/

And the best things don't always hang around for those who wait/

If you are waiting for the right time the right time will fly right by/

Always planning never moving always praying but never doing/

It ain't living if you're just spending your life waiting for the right time.