{I quickly opened another browser window and did a search for Theodore Hax. The first result was an obituary…for Theodore’s brother…who had passed in February…}
I now understand what the phrase, ‘Obituary Gold’ means in genealogical circles. It is an obituary that contains a great deal of information on the deceased’s life, career, civic involvement, surviving relatives and those that had preceded them in death. One could practically build a family tree from it, which is exactly what I would eventually do.
As I read Peter’s obituary, It occurred to me that I was reading the names of relatives, close blood relatives. This was truly mindbogglingly to someone who had let go of these kind of connections oh so long ago. I was excited, confused, hopeful…cautious. I had no relatives…and now I did. When I read this about his career ” Chief Radar-man and an Air Traffic Controller” I was certain I had found my father. Harley was in the Navy and was an air traffic controller. He was in air traffic controller training on an Air Navel base in Georgia when I was conceived. Harley had inferred he knew my father. It was a plausible assumption that this is where my biological parents would have connected. I was reading the names of Peter’s children, my brothers and sisters? I sat there as I am sitting here now having just typed this out; a rush of emotion and feeling a bit nauseous.
Brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews, cousins and grandparents
Aunts and Uncles…Uncles? It turned out, Theodore had two brothers. His other brother, Wilbur, was listed near the end of the obituary, with the relatives that had proceeded Peter in death. Both of his brothers had passed on. It also meant that I did not know for sure if I was reading the names of brothers and sisters or cousins. I now considered the possibility that Wilbur could potentially be my father and his children my brothers and sisters.
I certainly wasn’t one of those persons portrayed in commercials where lost family feel an urgent need to connect to found family. This had been ‘settled business’ for over half my life. I’d Leaned to take care of myself, had been getting along very well with almost no interaction with family. I had created a tribe and support system. I also enjoyed the anonymity one can benefit from when estranged from ones family confines.
When you don’t have people constantly reminding you who you were when you were still growing, it can be easier to be what you became from that growth.
‘Family” what had that word meant? What did it mean now? Did I really want to open this proverbial can of worms? What would, could this bring into my life? More rejection? Acceptance? I was well versed in dealing with rejection, Id been thriving despite it my entire life. Acceptance was not a dance I knew well. I had rarely heard that music so I didn’t know the steps. I realized acceptance was more frightening than rejection.
I started to do what I do, research, reason and respond to the circumstances I’m faced with. This can also, and often does, manifest as obsession, rationalization and procrastination. Information brings me comfort. Is it any wonder why given how much information was withheld and misinformation was disseminated most of my life.
With a list of a couple of dozen names from the obituary I began to build a family tree on Ancestry. As I began to add people and dates to the tree the first revelation put a serious damper on my expectations as to where this might all be leading. I was already dealing with the reality that I had found, but would never meet, my father but now it was becoming apparent that I would in all likely hood never be able to reach out to any of my surviving ancestors.
Peter and Wilbur were both already married, with children, when one of them would have had this encounter with my mother. They had both left grieving widows of over 50 years, children, grandchildren…who was I to taint the memory of their husband, father or grandfather? I could not…would not be the cause of that kind of confusing emotional upheaval and distress. They could never know I existed. I was still, and would remain, unknown in that regard.
Even if I never got to meet these people, at least I knew how to go about getting to know them from a distance. I engaged the internet and social media. I did some “lite” stalking and found photos, addresses and even news stories about my potential brothers, sisters, and / or cousins. For the first time in my life, I saw myself in other peoples faces. I constructed and assigned them personality’s, always casting them in the most positive light, given the information I had gleaned. I began to develop relationships and bond with total strangers who didn’t even know I existed.
I think as part of my process, so as I could digest this a bit at a time, I became very engaged with the genealogy of the DNA testing. I figured out how to manage (manipulate) the Ancestry website and continued to build my family tree. I found a great, great grandfather who had served in the Calvary in the Civil War, had been wounded in battle and survived the emphasis Libby prisoner of war camp.
I traced my heritage back to a great, great grandfather born in 1232. For someone who could not even trace his lineage back one generation, this was an emotional and mentally altering experience. I had never felt so connected to…time, history, humanity…
Meanwhile…
So, WTF, God? Why would we manifest and bring me to this information if I was only to be allowed to observe from a distance? This seemed terribly unfair and unreasonable. Have I not suffered…endured enough when it comes to the absence and loss of family? Are we just trying to see how much I can take before…before what? What was I really upset about? What had I lost? Ignorance. Sometimes ignorance is bliss. What had I gained? Knowledge. A bell once rung, cannot be unrung. My life could never be the same. A small place within me asked,”what would be so bad about that?” That voice got louder and louder. This conversation would continue but what to do next…
