May Fourth, Two Thousand Eighteen. I remember sitting out front of the restaurant 10 minutes early. I had stepped away from the long line of people waiting for their table on a Friday night. I go to this particular restaurant for celebrations – when we first moved to Arizona, family birthdays, when we were chosen by our daughter’s first Mama, and when special people in our lives come to visit. Tonight, I was anxiously awaiting a man; a man who I had never met in person but was in no way a stranger. A man who was coming from 507 miles away; coming to meet his daughter. I was sweating from nerves, sweating from the heat, sweating from anticipation.
Before this much anticipated moment, I had dreamed about him for the past 34 years. And for those past 34 years, I had set myself up for one of the biggest rejections of my life- that he wouldn’t want anything to do with me. I don’t mean that to be a personal attack against him, but I knew that there was a very high probability that he never knew about me. That he had lived a full life, without me, with family, friends, a beautiful home… a life that may not have room for me after all this time.
I position myself outside the restaurant, away from the loud chatter of the waiting crowds, against a wall where I was confident he’d be able to recognize me without fail. I couldn’t believe that all these people were about to witness a long overdue, family reunion, between a daughter and her dad. My heart racing and my mind going a million miles.
He turns the corner and I literally feel my body freeze. Staring at DNA directly in front of my face. The moment we hugged, I felt a sense of safety and relief. I immediately recognized that all those fears I set myself up for were gone in a flash. All those years of worry suddenly disappeared.
Thirty-four years of not knowing who he was, what he looked like, what he loved, what he hated, if I’d ever speak to him or know his name.I felt privileged to sit there in front of him. Almost starring into a mirror physically yet learning about the man behind it.
We talked about faith. We talked about our families. We talked our childhoods. We talked matching attributes. We talked about heritage. We put pieces of the past together. We talked about hard emotions of lost 34 years. We talked about the happy emotions like we no longer have to miss out on one another. We talked about the importance of being honest with each other. If things are too much or not enough. We talked about God’s timing in this plan for our reunion. I feel confident that I was not ready one day sooner than when this all unfolded. We talked about adoption as this whole community is brand new to him. Each of us in our own unique positions of the adoption triad. Each of us processing, allowing one another to process together and on our own. I have known for 34 years that I was placed for adoption. My birth mother has known about me for 34 years. He just found out that he has another daughter. One he never ever knew about; his firstborn. That’s a lot. This is a lot.
In the midst of being equally mesmerized and mind blown, the waitress is continually trying to politely kick us out as the restaurant is closing. Both of us trying not to blurt out why we were here but then we did, and it felt so good. We are both so proud of each other. We are both so grateful to be sitting knee-to-knee with each other. This man in front of me is no longer just a man. This man is kind. This man is open. This man is silly. He is honest. He is confident. He is full of love and life. This man is my long lost home. On May 4th, 2018 – I didn’t find rejection. I found family.
