It was a completely ordinary day. I got a manila envelope in the mail—addressed to my office. That address is still publicly available even though I have not worked there in quite some time. That was the first mystery.
Inside the envelope was a paperback book. I had not ordered this—the title was unfamiliar. I turned the book over. The author’s photo was strangely familiar. I know I had never seen that face, yet there was something about that face…
When I opened the front cover there was a letter addressed to me. (Reader, you might want to sit down.) It read:
“I am your father’s son.”
I stared at these words uncomprehendingly. I felt a need to sit down. I read the rest of the letter which was quite brief—several times. There was a name and a number and those words.
Curiosity was perhaps the strongest emotion- if that is an emotion. I just know I wanted to find out the rest of the story.
It was a Saturday in September and I kept checking my watch and the door as if I were about to go on a blind date. And in a way, perhaps that is an apt description.
You might think that knowing this was to be a first meeting face to face I would have thought of something to say, worthy of a momentous occasion. When the doorbell rang and I answered the door, I looked up. My immortal first words: “Wow! You are tall!”
Since tall people hear this all the time, he absolutely took it in good humor, “Yes, I sure am.” Then he bent down to hug me.
We spent the afternoon and the evening and the next day talking—we had two lifetimes to catch up on.
He looked and felt familiar because he has our father’s build: tall, lean, athletic, graceful. He had Daddy’s mannerisms, too. It was very much like looking at a younger version of Daddy.
He returned for Thanksgiving to meet the nieces and nephew. What a holiday it was! They adored him and he found them fascinating.
People always talk about going home for the holidays—there is no adequate description for doing that for the first time. I have a new to me brother.
August the following year, our sisters had an occasion to arrive in the city where he lived. We met at a museum site, where there were crowds of people. When we all found each other, really, no introductions were needed. They saw it too. It was so good to be there that day for all that open hearted…connecting.
Not only can you go home again, you can go home for the very first time. As Daddy said to the sons-in-law on meeting them: “I’m Geronimo. Welcome to the tribe!”
You can’t make that kind of thing up!
No comments:
Post a Comment