The Question of the Week

I have gotten this question twice this week. Not really a bad thing, just unusual. Doodle asked, as did Adorable Gay Friend.

The Question: Do you know your father?

The answer: No. I have never met him.

I didn't ask many questions about him because I always thought that it would hurt my mother. She has always been both parents so there was never really a need. And I tried to act like there wasn't really a want either. But curiosity is a strange thing that you sometimes don't have control over.

When I was younger, I said to myself when I was 20, I would be "adult" enough to ask my mom for more information. I wouldn't make her do the search for me because that would be just wrong. Well, instead of finding my other parent at 20, I became a parent. I then told myself that I would just wait it out for a little while longer. I wanted to make sure I was in a really good place before I even made any attempts. You know be highly educated, have a good job (rocket scientist/doctor/teacher-really anything that sounded good), have my perfectly well mannered child, have my perfect husband and my perfect car. I was just not there yet and as soon as all this happened, I would try to find him.

As I was driving home yesterday I realized something-I already have all this. I have my perfect life.

I may not be book educated, but I am intelligent. I can help people. I am smart enough to know when people just want someone to listen-and I can do that. I have a good job. It may not be the most amazing job, but it is mine. I have earned this.

And my child may not be perfect to anyone else, but he is to me. HE teaches ME. I am a better person because of him.

The husband is still in the works but I am happy with my current situation.

And my car has a red door ding, a big dent in the hood and the service engine light is on. But I have worked for that car. I was the first one in my family to ever buy a brand new car.

I know that my mother made the right decision for us at the time. I love my mother and if I become even a quarter of the person she is, that will make me better than most. She has always put us first. She will forever be my best friend and the first person (okay, maybe the second) I call when I just need to vent about something. If I need a new perspective, she has taught me to recognize that and that it is okay to ask for help.

A lot of people think I had a rough life because I am from a "broken" home. I don't see it that way. There was nothing broken about my home. Or my family. I think I am lucky that I have one parent who gave me enough love to cover for the second instead of two parents that each loved me a little.

But I can't help but wonder. I come from a family of blondes. I am not blonde. All of my family has blue eyes. Mine are green. I just want to see where I came from. Even if it turns out to be wrong, or something I don't really want to know. I am at a point in my life where I can accept the outcome-whether it means that I have a father or that I don't.