Hello, I wanted to share my story with others so that they may be encouraged. I am 47 years of age, married and have a beautiful 12 year old daughter. I had grown up not knowing who my father is. All I had was his name and state and had been aware of this since childhood. I was always curious to know him. After speaking about this with my mother recently, I was surprised to learn that I had been spelling his name wrong. She told me how to spell it correctly. I Googled him again and poof, there he was: Name, address, phone number and closest relatives. This was on a Monday.
I waited a few days to call but was unsuccessful, the phone number I had did not work. However the site that I had used had listed all the addresses that he had had in the past and present. I immediately recognized his city of origin to be the same as my mothers. This had to be the same guy, I thought. So by the time the weekend came I decided I would make the five hour drive to meet him. My mother was like a lot of other moms of children born in the sixties, she was not interested in revealing too much info about her past or about her relationships so I never pushed the issue. No harm, no file. When I arrived at his home on that following Saturday my heart raced with anticipation, but I had come too far not to finish what I had started. I HAD TO KNOW.
I rang the door bell, he answered and I asked him was his name............to which he replied yes I am. I asked him if he would step outside for a few minutes. Here was a total stranger at his front door, requesting an audience, he obliged me and I began to explain my story, some of the history of my past and asked him if remembered my mother. He thought momentarily and then explained to me that at that my mothers best friend at that time had explained to him that my father was some other guy. He stated that he was sorry and could not help me but that I could come back anytime for conversation. Okay dude, I have explained that I was there by no accident and had driven a pretty good distance. Talk Now! But I had already intruded on his life. He had dismissed any and all knowledge of my mother and that had been an extremely distant memory to him and he probably had never relived it until I was standing there looking in his face.
I was grateful for the 5 or 10 minutes he had given me. Not to mention that it had been almost fifty years since he had thought about any of this. Yet here I stood, in his face, claiming that I was his kid. I think he handled it pretty well all things considered. In my opinion he DID NOT HAVE A CLUE I EVEN EXISTED. While we were talking I studied his facial features. I noticed we shared the same mouth, worry lines, and defininetely the eddie munster receding hairline. I apologized for the intrusion, we shook hands and departed. But I left thinking that this was DEFINITELY my father. However I could not make him accept me, or want to know who I was. Again, it was pretty obivious he had no idea I existed.
I am now at the place whether or not I should pursue it further or let it go. Just let by gones be bygones. I do have an inward desire to want to know him. But I do not believe you can not make anyone accept you. I have considered writing but I am not sure which direction to procede. Any suggestions?