Vulnerable

I received an email from my dad last night.

Which, you know, isn’t possible, as he died last week.

I was very sleep deprived, and sick, and it was late. I was in the process of shutting the computer down and going to bed, when the email came through my phone, laying between computer and me.

I just stared.

That’s not right.

WTH?

Did someone hack into his account? This is mean.

And some clarity began to seep in.

Holy crap.

His son, the brother I’ve never met from his first marriage, has his name.

And there it was: are you this man’s daughter? I’ve been trying to find you.

I started crying. My phone’s battery is blinking red, but held on to life while I texted my sisters and my mom before responding, and then in between while waiting for a follow up.

Overwhelmed. I hate that word. I think I use it too much. I found another sister through Facebook earlier this week, from dad’s second marriage, and have been praying and waiting for her reply. This took me absolutely by shock, especially since I was told these older siblings wanted nothing to do with me. Someone between us has our emails, our names, our phone number, and was the one to tell me to go away. I don’t think I’m mad quite yet- if this is sincere, she decidely stole ten years from all of us. Ten years to know each other and be part of each other’s lives. Ten whole years.

If this is sincere.

I’m scared. My younger sister and I. We haven’t gotten over an enormous……..chasm…….between our older sister and us. Large enough that we’ll never fully recover from it, or ever be able to truly forgive her. I feel amputated by that loss. Part of me is missing. Added to these siblings I’ve never stopped missing. Then the buried rejection in the harshest way possible from yet another, and I want to say: If you mean us harm, please stay away. We can’t handle it right now. Ever.

I told my work that I didn’t need three days to mourn. I’m not a loving daughter. I don’t equate with normal ones. But I got into work today and suddenly, I could not stop crying. Overwhelmed. A coworker told me to go home. Nothing’s happening, just go home. But I shook my head and tried to accomplish something. So she sat in the office with me and talked non-stop. About her cats, about vacation, about things going on in other departments. I don’t know if it was intentional, but when she stopped, or if I left the room, I’d start crying again. So, I left. And I’ll do what I do best: write it out.

And I bought a gigantic 5 foot tall skeleton. Because it made sense.

Now, I wait. I told him I didn’t want to talk on the phone. I want to see them, and talk in person.

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