FATHER-DAUGHTER REUNION

TV talk shows often feature “reunion” experiences, usually between adopted children and their bio-parents, but sometimes between children of divorce and their “lost” parent. My experience is in the latter category. 

My “excursion” only lasted two days. The bus left Butler, Pennsylvania late Friday afternoon, and left New Jersey to return to Butler late Sunday. But this two-day “vacation” enriched my life more than I expected.

My parents divorced when I was very young. Unfortunately, all I knew about my father was he was a retired Navy man; he had remarried and redivorced; he was father to five children in his second marriage, and he lived in New Jersey. Not much.

In my mid-thirties I wrote the Navy department and requested information on him. They forwarded my letter to him and he telephoned. We talked several times, exchanged letters, and we were anxious to meet.

I chose a weekend in October to take a trip to New Jersey for a surprise visit. I learned from a friend there was a chartered bus traveling to New Jersey, taking a group of local people to a Catholic charismatic convention. She arranged for my purchase of one of the few remaining seats. This set the atmosphere for the trip---and what an atmosphere it would be!

Transportation solved, I now had to locate a room. As luck would have it, all the Atlantic City area hotel rooms were filled with conventioneers. Through the La Leche League, I located a room in a private home, which was far more convenient for me than suburban Atlantic City.

Travel and room arrangements made, I contacted one of my father’s sons---my half-brother---Dan, who Dan was willing to do anything that would make things easier for me. We decided it was best to surprise my father, whose bravado in meeting his second daughter might waver and cause him to disappear.

It seemed everything about this vacation was coming together like a well-cut jigsaw puzzle.

The song-filled bus arrived in Atlantic City on schedule, and I took a cab to my hostess’s home. The cab cost me $25.00, $5.00 more than the eight-hour bus trip!

I arrived at my destination just as my hostess was leaving to attend the convention. As she hurriedly walked past me she called out that the room was ready, food was in the refrigerator and the house was mine. I made myself comfortable and tried to calm the jitters as I thought about my upcoming adventures.

Saturday morning brought a sports car to my door. Two good-looking young gentlemen lifted their tall bodies out of the vehicle and introduced themselves before I entered the front seat of the car. Dan and Jeff then whisked me off.

Our first stop was to meet their mother, indicating to me they had fully and immediately accepted me as their sister.

We shared time coffee-klatching and then headed out to find my self-employed father, always seeming to be one step behind his morning activities, a parade and the post office. Meanwhile, Dan and Jeff stopped at a drugstore, handing me the sports car keys and instructing me to drive around the block.

We finally caught up with my father at a home where he was installing carpet.

I waited int eh car while my brothers went in to talk to him. Within minutes, all three exited the house, my father truly surprised but truly pleased. We were finally meeting, after 30-plus years and numerous, lengthy phone conversations!

We drove around for a while, mostly quiet, enveloped in the emotions of the moment. We finally returned my father to where he had to finish installing the carpet, but not before we shared lunch at a local restaurant. The remainder of he afternoon was spent with my two brothers, meeting brother number three (Paul) and their sister, Kitty. There were eight nieces and nephews I could add to my family.

That evening we had a party at Jeff’s home. During this time, we were able to share our histories, and began to view ourselves as a family unit. The warmth and acceptance into this part of my family, as well as seeing my father, made this vacation to a small New Jersey town unique and memorable.

The nature of this vacation also answered many questions, some of which I never knew existed. It included learning I was one-fourth Swedish, which added a new dimension to my life. I write to a distant relative in Sweden and have a special bond to a Swedish member of my community.

As I prepared to leave for home, my host family refused to take any payment for housing me. While there, I learned they were from a small town in Pennsylvania, 15 miles from where I lived.

The family bonding that began on that October weekend continued to grow threw the years. I saw my father only once again before death. Kitty has become as much a sister as possible considering we didn’t grow up together and we see each other rarely. However, we look so much alike---and she always wanted a big sister. On our infrequent visits we relate easily to each other.

My reunion experience with my father and his family turned out to be a very positive experience. However, I know of others, mostly adopted persons, whose experiences in attempting reunions has gone less well.