I Survived My Family Reunion...and All I Got was This T-Shirt

Okay, I have to start by saying I had a really good time, lest someone IN the family read the title and think "Oh no. She had a bad time. Let's get her."

I went to my family reunion this weekend, except I prefer to refer to it as a family union because there wasn't a lot of "re" about it. See this was the Martin side of the family. Of course, having taken the course Tory 101, you know all about that.

What? You say you need a refresher course? You were absent that day? The dog ate your report.

Well okay.

Once upon a time in a galaxy far far away a princess was born to Pat and Donald. Unfortunately after awhile Don decided to leave. He left when I was four. I heard from him again when I was 20, just after marrying my honey. We have enjoyed a correspondence relationship for 14 years.

In May he was up in my neck of the woods and we met for dinner. It was interesting and scary and emotional, but cool.

So every year the Martin side of the family has a family reunion and I decided that it was time to get to know these people.

First let me start by saying, it is really surreal to attend a family reunion as a part of a family that you don't really know. It was like I was part of them, but not. I felt very accepted and enjoyed myself, but it was disconcerting to look around the room and think "Wow. Uncles. Aunts. Cousins. In-Laws. Father. These people are a part of me, but I don't know them and they don't know me."

Of course the main person I'm interested in is Don. He is my father. He's not my Dad. See, and I've told him this so he wouldn't be hurt by this revelation, Dads are there. Dads are at the birthday parties. Dads teach you to drive. They yell at you when you're a rotten mouthy stinky teenager. They take you on family trips and guilt trips. They don't have to be related by blood, they just have to be related by love.

Gary is Dad. Gary adopted me (as you will recall from your Tory 101 course) when I was five years old. He adopted Tammy too. He never treated us any different.

But even though I never wanted for a Dad, I always did for a Father.

Because while Gary helped to mold me into who I am, he doesn't share my DNA. He doesn't have my eyes. He didn't give me his damned ball-y looking nose. Where did I get this sense of humor? My talent for writing. (Okay, stop laughing....maybe I'll say my enjoyment of writing. Is that better? Are you happy?) Where did I get my love of literature and learning? Oh, I definitely got a LOT of that stuff from my Mom. She writes. She loves to learn. She's a kick in the pants. But there are other things that are unique to me...or are they? What about my logical method of building an argument and demanding that other people use only logic and facts in THEIR arguments? Is that me? Is that he?

So all of a sudden here I am for an entire weekend with this man who refers to me as his daughter. Does that bother me? Am I his daughter? Yes, I am. No, it doesn't bother me. It feels strangely right, but at the same time wrong.

I'm telling you, it was a weekend of conflicting emotions.

I was thrilled to get to know more about him, yet I worried that he might lose interest in me as he did when I was a child.

I loved hearing the family stories because they were his history and they are my history, but at the same time they are not.

I enjoyed the give and take between the brothers and sisters. It is so much like my relationship with my sister, Tammy. Easy going, teasing, fun. They were able to have deep, meaningful discussions and then suddenly be laughing about something completely off the wall.

I guess what it felt like, and pardon me that this is such a stilted meandering blog because that's just how things are falling out of my head tonight...it felt like I was watching this fascinating story of me unfold before me. It was me. It wasn't me. This woman is my aunt. This man is my uncle. This man is my cousin. I don't know these people. Here they are welcoming me into their home in a very loving and accepting manner.

So back to the father. How does it feel to sort of suddenly (but not) have a "new" father?

It feels downright strange.

I look at pictures of the two of us and say "Wow, those are my eyes. That is my nose. Darn, I'm going to need a brow lift some day 'cause those babies are heading south."

I listen to his prose and think "Wow, he is a storyteller like I am. This is where I get my gift of gab; my love for telling my stories. My need to torture others with boring facts about my life that no one cares about." My poor friends. I apologize. (No, really. I enjoyed his stories.)

I see physical mannerisms that are similar to mine. Wow.

I listen to him form arguments as he discussed politics, morality, and the media. I hear the conservative side coming from one person, I form my own response internally, I hear him say almost exactly what I'm thinking. I appreciate the way he supports his arguments with facts, and challenges weak arguments based on emotion and I realize I appreciate this because I do this.

How can this be? We didn't grow up in the same household. How did we develop the same opinions and mannerisms? Certainly my opinions are not unique, but there were at least a half a dozen times where I thought something, or whispered it to Roy and he turned around and said the SAME THING as if he read my mind.

I am enveloped in his arms in a huge bear hug and I think "What is this? Who is this man who is hugging me? Why?" Part of me wants to enjoy it, relax into it, feel like I've found something that was lost. Part of me wants to say "Hold on Bucko, personal bubble here...personal bubble." I am not a "huggy" kinda gal. How do I take that?

I feel so trepiditious about this relationship. I know me. I am easily hurt. I am also the type of person who can, quite easily, make a personal and emotional investment into a relationship. I will then become very hurt when things go south. I know this so I am saying to myself, "Self, slow down. Take it easy. Take it for what it is today, at this moment. Do not project into the future because there may BE no future. Don't be negative, but be realistic. Do not invest more than you are willing to lose in this endeavor. Do not invest more than you are willing to lose."

One thing I am not is angry. Should I be? Maybe. Am I? No. Why? Because I am not going to give my time and effort into something that neither of us can change. I can't make him go back and be the father to me I so desperately wanted. I can only say, "Okay, we're starting from here and we're moving forward. I'll walk slowly and carefully, watching you for your next move." Is that the right way to go about this?

I don't know.

I do know that I'm glad I went. I'm glad I met and re-met some people in my life who share some of my history. I'm glad I learned some new family stories. I'm glad I laughed with these people, and I'm even glad I hugged them. I want to see them again next year. I hope it works out...but like I said, I won't invest until I know what I'm ready to lose.

We'll see.