Tuesday, 9 August 2011

Beware - the self absorbed post - best left unread!

Yesterday I went to my first ever funeral - yes I've been lucky - It was the funeral of the man that gave me half of my DNA and from what I remember that was pretty much it (although I think the bad nose and big bum have something to do with him).

I would call him my 'Real Dad' but a real dad is the one who gives you hugs when you graze your knee when you're little, teaches you to ride a bike, plays Frisbee on the beach when he'd much rather be having a pint, ask's if you're hurt then instructs you to have a vodka when rung with news of a first car crash, walks you down the aisle and then provides a tear jerking speech about the love for his daughter on her wedding day, holds his first grandchild and looks at her with pride, is there what ever time of day.  That wasn't the DNA donor, that was my REAL DAD.

Apparently, so I've been told, the DNA Donor loved me lots and I began my life as a doted on Daddy's Girl, but when I was 5 he left my Mum. When I was 7 he left me, according to him, it was too hard for both of us to be separated after every, fortnightly, weekend visit.  Better to be separated forever (me, bitter, never). I'm assuming that the separation anxiety also went for his money as he never spent another penny on me after the age of 7. So the few memories and the photo albums of the two of us end about here (oh to have a tummy that flat still!):

My Mum hasn't really spoken about the break up much but I know that she felt very bitter about the Donor walking out of our life and seemingly replacing us with another wife and her three older girls almost immediately.

So 30 years pass, hearts are sewn together and the cracks covered over, then 8 weeks ago, the youngest replacement daughter rings me to let me know that the Donor is in a hospice and likely to die shortly. Now what? The stitches begin unravelling, I don't want to hurt my Real Dad, I thought I'd dealt with how I felt years ago, the pressure of only having a short time to decide what to do.  Lots of tears and hugs later I'm going to go and see him.

But, haha - he literally has the last laugh, he doesn't want to see me. Selfish in life, why would he change now (OK I realise that he was dying and could do what he wants - but I regressed to an abandoned child once again!). After 8 weeks of progress reports given by the replacement daughter, I get the final call.

So back to the funeral - with the help of Tim's hand holding me down in my seat - a story of an unrecognisable life! If I could have worked out which door was the way out, I would have left after the vicar began the ramble about how god ensures that parents care for children and their grandchildren.  Wife 5 (that I know of) of five years (good going for him), a devout Methodist, helped out the vicar with selected highlights of the Donor's life (I found out he was a keen cross country runner in his youth - that's where Anya gets it!). The vicar, with a sad sigh, wrapped up by pointing out that the Donor was a loving husband and father to youngest replacement daughter and 'Grandpappy' to her children.

So that was that then - written out of his life.  Do I care, not sure yet. Am I angry, you bet. What can I do - go and get a big hug from my REAL MUM and DAD.

PS - Tim's just read this and thinks I shouldn't let the world read it and that it really wasn't as bad as I made out. I'm hoping that I can let go of my feelings and now that this particular door has shut I can turn my back on it.  I am pleased that I've met some new/old family and that it's meant that I've re-appreciated the amazing family I HAVE got. I needed to write down somewhere how I felt and mission accomplished, I could just delete this whole post (I'll think about doing that). And one last thing - I'm not blaming the vicar, wife 5 or replacement daughter for how I feel or what was said. The problem was with what I personally heard (different to what anyone else heard), and I should have talked that through with the Donor years ago!


  1. No - don't delete this post. Justified feelings of frustration, confusion and abandonment all round. Wishing you to happily "work thorugh this" soon!

  2. BIG HUGS cous x Totally justified in all your feelings and really hope you can work through this soon and focus on what matters most now - the future and the happiness of your own precious family. Love you xx

  3. This made me cry at work!! His loss was our gain! Love you billions! and Dad loves you like his own! Loving the daddy montage! :)

  4. I have been missing your posts from Skywatch and need to just run over here now and again which is why I am late to this post.
    Your feelings are totally valid.Freeing them in print to the world(even out tiny little bloggity blog world) takes them from vexing you alone to a place of sorting out and feeling better.
    We have these abandonment issues even as adults we just hope we have learned to deal with them by now.
    My mother dies in 2002,my Dad in 2008 and all of a sudden I thought to myself "I am an Orphan, an adult orphan" because that is how it felt. I pulled up my boots and went on because that is what we all must do each day.
    You were lucky to have a great "real Dad" and to know the difference. Take care!
    I must remember to visit here more often!

  5. A moving post and a tribute to your 'real' dad. We can't choose our family, and what a disappointment (an understatement, I know!)your donor Dad turned out to be. Like a lot of people who are inadequate in some way it seems he felt the need to continually re-invent himself.

    At the end of the day he lost out on the chance to make his peace with you. Move on, and try to live 'what is' and not worry too much about 'what might have been'. Your family looks wonderful, so enjoy every minute with them ........


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