Well this may bring me to my knees today but I want to share.
My biological father died when I was 22. he was not 'in' and never was."none of his family." I got to know him well before he passed. His greatest regret was me being taken from him and thinking I didnt love him or want him. He had his problems. And of course I was told he was evil.
Quite the contrary. He was the nicest man I have ever met. Last dime out of his pocket, shirt off his back kind of man.
When I got the call he was in the hospital they said he either couldn't speak or was refusing to speak. I rushed to the hospital 9 hrs away. He was hooked up on many machines. I took a deep breath and walked in, he started to cry and held out his hand. I fought back the tears. He tried to speak for the first time in the intensive care unit.
I could feel the regret coming from him. I did not allow him to hold on to it. I squeezed his hand and let him know I harbored no ill anything towards him and he didnt need to explain if he didnt want to. He got better for a few days and was put in a room.
I asked him if he wanted anything....He said 'a hamburger', I knew he wasnt supposed to have it but he had hours or maybe a couple of days left. I got him that damn hamburger! Snuck it in and had one last meal with a father that was demonized by the jwcult. We smiled and laughed and ate. My tall adult self crawled into the hospital bed with him and slept by my fathers side.
He became my only rock....breifly in my very early 20s.. I might have had a chance to assimilate into society better had he lived. Instead when he died I became numb for many years.
As the years went by I realized that his sister my aunt loved me dearly. For the life of me I cannot find her. I keep trying to no avail.
I feel if I did it would be a game changer for me possibly. Im still looking.
That was very intense for me. Time for a breath. Thanks for reading.