How finding my biological father led me to the family I never knew I wanted so much

To have a happily ever after, there must first have been a “before.”  These befores can be messy, confusing, and full of first times. Each and every one is a story just waiting to be told. Gingerly, they are held in the arms of storytellers. We listen to the narratives of others, not just with our ears, but with our hearts as well.

To me, the telling of these adventures is something that comes naturally. Sharing my own before, however, has been more of a challenge. It would involve me telling about meeting the amazing biological family I grew up not knowing. The thought of doing so left me feeling both raw and free.



Growing up, I only knew half the story of my before. The life I had lived, though uniquely mine, was also only half of me. There was always a void. I was told at an early age that I was adopted by a man who was not my biological father. It was a fact that my mother never tried to hide.



When I was young, I lived a very sheltered life, blissfully ignorant concerning the other half of me. I always knew there was more, but that was the extent of my knowledge. My mom never stopped, nor encouraged, me to contact my birth father. Her gift was allowing me to wait without pressure until I was ready to contact him.



My adoptive father, who was the biological father of my two younger siblings, passed away when I was 14. Shortly thereafter, my mother married again. This painful disruption into my quiet bubble is when I first started really questioning that void. It would be almost six years, however, before I would gather the resolve needed to contact the man who gave me half of my DNA.



I was 20 years old when I met the man I now lovingly call “Dad” and found the missing piece(s) of my identity. I wrote him a letter describing who I was, where I was in life, and poured out my heart to him.



At the time of the letter, I was hormonal and pregnant so there was no shortage of words. Months passed and I heard nothing. I later came to find out the letter never made it to him. One day, my eight-month pregnant self gathered every nerve I had, and Googled his name, found a number and called him.



I didn’t know what I would say.

I thought about my beginning, how my mom had met my biological dad while they were working for the same jewelry store. My dad was separated and my mom was single. He was from Florida and she lived in Colorado. They thought the distance would make it very difficult to raise a child with any sense of stability.

So when my mom asked him to sign away his parental rights for that reason, he agreed. It was not a decision taken lightly and they both did what they believed was in my best interest.

About that phone call I made: As soon as he answered the phone, he knew who I was. Imagine my surprise when he sheepishly asked if he could call me back in a little while! Apparently I wasn’t the only one nervously lost for words.

When I hung up from that eight-second call, I left the ball in his court. I didn’t tell anyone other than my husband that I had contacted him. I didn’t know if he would call me back or if those words would be the only ones I ever heard from him.



Shortly thereafter and true to his word, he called and we had our first real talk. I found a warm familiarity in that conversation. It was, in many ways, like talking to a wiser version of myself.

We began conversing regularly.  In a matter of weeks, he was here in NC!



His first trip here came with pictures, hugs and tears from years missed. When we met, I was able to introduce him to not only my husband, but also his still-new-smelling grandson.

In the eight years that have passed since our initial rendezvous, he has been one of the most influential, encouraging and ever-present forces in my life. I have found more similarities with him than I ever dreamt possible, including the face I apparently stole, my mannerisms and my-laid back approach to life.



Our meeting has brought so much joy into my life. I would never have guessed that there was more to come. To my surprise I also got a package deal. Along with finding him came the unstoppable warmth that is my precious stepmother, who seamlessly took on the role of “Nana” to my three kids.



Moreover, she has loved me as her own.



What started out as a single person, a key to half of my identity, had morphed into a large, amazing, loquacious, and loving Jewish family. They welcomed not just me, but also my husband, and our gaggle of children with open arms. Talk about a lot to take in!



Over these last several years, I have regularly seen my dad and stepmother. They have made the pilgrimage from Florida to North Carolina for birthdays, births, and just because. However, having a small team of children, working full-time and being a student makes traveling difficult for me, to say the least.



Due to those restrictions, it wasn’t until last weekend that the stars aligned and I was able to finally travel to Chicago to meet the rest of my extended family.



From the second we landed at O’Hare I was surrounded by two things, an icy air like no other (Chicago in the winter is no joke) and the radiating warmth of my aunt’s embrace. Almost immediately, my cousins joined her in giving me what had been my departed grandmother’s favorite necklace, all the while telling me tales about the amazing, empowering woman she was. Consequently, I bawled like a child.



With each new person, from little to grown, came the most wonderful barrage of hugs. I instantly felt at home as peace took pity on me, quickly displacing my poor nerves.



The trip, though too short, was eventful and enlightening in so many ways.  Alas, that is another story for a different day.  



As I barge into 2018, I have a better understanding of “me”.  I carry with me the irreplaceable essence of love that is family. Though I don’t know what this year will hold, I know that I have the support of my whole family to conquer any challenge thrown my way. Because I now know my before, I can see my ever-after.

Photo: Hannah Moore

This story was originally published January 7, 2018 at 9:00 PM with the headline "How finding my biological father led me to the family I never knew I wanted so much."