Give It Time
No one could have told me that the year 2020 would include COVID quarantine, learning I have aunts, uncles, many, many first cousins, and finding who my biological father is after over 40 years of wondering.
I’m not sure what results I expected after taking the Ancestry.com DNA test but I did imagine what if my father took the same test because he was searching for me just as I longed to find him. I imagined how he might look after all these years. I imagined the questions he would ask and tried to decided what I wanted to know most from him. I would see the television commercials, listen to the testimonials about ancestral hints and wish for my happy reunion. I even signed up for the show Long Lost Family on TLC but never heard back. The reality I had to face was just how impossible it would be to find my dad with the little amount of information I had on him. All I knew from my mom was his name, James C. Johnson, that he was in the military, around the same age as my mom and was from Texas.
“Really mom, that’s the best you can give me?” I thought.
All I had at that point was to do the DNA test and to give it time. So that’s exactly what I did.
I joined Ancestry.com in 2018 and started to build my family tree. It was a sad sight, a tree that started with me, included my kids, my husband, my mom, and ended there. It stayed that way from 2018 until now. There were many matches listed for my DNA and the information even included whether it was a match on my mom’s side or my dad’s. Without a name to start with or build from, it was almost impossible to reach out to the countless 3rd-4th and 5th-6th cousins. However, there was only 1st-2nd cousin match and surprise, surprise it was on my dad’s side. To my disappointment though, the name listed wasn’t even a name. The person simply went by a set of initials, P.M.
Well, I figured I had nothing to lose and I sent this person a message. One month went by and no response. Two months and then three. Nothing. Then, to my excitement, I received a reply.
“How do you know James Johnson? Are you a Berryman descendant?”
I replied, “He's my father. I don’t know any Berrymans.”
Then, silence.
I figured I must be on the right track and decided I wasn’t going to stop looking. I searched this person’s tree and behold, there it was, James C. Johnson. But not just the person I believed to be my father. He had a living mother, brothers and sisters. Those siblings had children and immediately my tree grew to include branches on both sides. I couldn’t believe my eyes! I actually found him! With a name, a test and a prayer, there he was. I’ve come closer than I ever had before.
The story my mom had given me was that he knew about me, and that she turned him down when he offered to marry her. For 40+ years, I’ve convinced myself that this meant he wanted to be in my life and that my mom prevented him from ever having a chance to know his daughter. I would not allow another opportunity to be missed. Not now that it’s up to me. I could see the resemblances in the faces of my children. My son looks like my uncle and my daughter looks like my dad.
Now, the search for my dad wasn’t the only crazy whirlwind happening. While searching for his family and the ways in which I was connected to this mysterious P.M., I also found a news clipping through the genealogy site that mentioned my mom. It was an obituary notice from 1970 for Mrs. Doris Jackson Pratt. My mom was listed as a surviving daughter along with 5 of her siblings.
What???? Siblings???
Oh mother, you’ve got some explaining to do.
“For there is nothing covered, that shall not be revealed; neither hid, that shall not be known.”
From there, I went to Facebook and began my hunt for the aunts and uncle I was never told I had. Within 24 hours, I had connected with a daughter of my mom’s sister and had a ZOOM video conference scheduled for the next day. By the end of the week, there were plans for a Thanksgiving holiday reunion, friend requests made on Facebook, and tears upon tears of joy for the fact that they had finally found Shirley, my mom.
It was all surreal to me. I began to feel overwhelmed in the reliving and remembering past pains. I thought about all the years I felt alone, trying to fit into families comprised of people who didn’t want me there and reminded me often that I didn’t belong. I remembered trying to comprehend why my mom and I never had someplace to go back to and always had to find a new place to call home. I began to wonder how different my life could have, would have, should have been if this larger than life group of people weren't kept from me.
The power of the mind is amazing. It can create a place of entrapment and paralyzing confusion if you’re not careful. There, in that moment, I was beginning to minimize all the beauty in my life, the love I've received from surrogate and adoptive families, the success and achievements I've had in spite of the craziness that was my life. There’s absolutely no way I could claim, with certainty, that my life would have been better or worse, it simply would have been different. I get the chance, now, to have relationships that I never imagined I would have and for that I am beyond grateful. I get to call some cousin without the whispers of “she’s not really family" as if blood should determine and dictate bond acceptance. I'm blessed to have been accepted by the sweetest of grandmas, my grandma Toots, who never cared whose blood flowed through my veins. I was her granddaughter and I pitied the fool who tried to say otherwise.
I wish she was here because I would have wanted my newfound family to meet her. She covered me while they were looking for me and I will always honor her for her love.
This experience has given me much more insight into what family is and what it isn't. I know now what it’s like to have people long for your return, love you without ever meeting you and care for you when they didn't have to. All we have is who we love, and this should begin with SELF.
Blood relative, self or stranger, we get to choose to love. It’s not limited to or by family, nor does it require having anyone else in your life. Love begins within and when you have it overflowing from inside, it's easy to share it with others.
I was reminded that I am to count it all joy, and above all, to love.
As for the search for my dad, well let’s just say it’s going to take more time.
Not to find out who he is, because that I already know. Turns out he needs more time to accept that his actions have consequences and sometimes those consequences come looking when you least expect it.
Oh, who knew?
Seems the fantasy I created in my mind was just that, a fantasy. My dad wasn’t longing to find me after all these years. I searched for him only to learn that he didn’t want to be searched for. In fact, he probably wished his relative, P.M. never took a DNA test. But such is life. I never wished to find out I was an ‘oops’ on his end but, nevertheless, here I am.
Let’s be clear, I’m not an oops to God and that’s all that matters. Besides, I’ve got a family reunion in Charlotte to get ready for and people to love. With open arms I will receive those on his side who choose to accept me and if that never includes him, then it’s his loss….not mine. I’ve come this far, 45 years, without him and I’m willing to bet that I can do the next 45 without his involvement too.
Love always and on purpose.
Sharonda “Phoenix”