| ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- once I really listened the noise, it went away I'm not sure why I've waited this long to post again. Besides being super-busy with work, grad school, freelance work, family, etc. I had wanted to come here and write about my father, about the fact that we finally talked for the first time in twenty-three (23!) years. But then I couldn't find the words. It was overwhelming, to say the least. We talked twice, actually. He initiated the conversation. Funny story, actually. I had been thinking about reaching out to him to ask him some questions about my biological mother and his marriages to her and my adoptive mother. So, even though my aunt wondered if it would be productive or resolve anything for me, I looked him up on LinkedIn (I know, I know) because I wanted to see if he was still teaching at the university in Idaho. Welp, you know how LinkedIn will show you some of the people who've viewed your profile? I told myself the chance he'd see that were slim to none. I guess slim-to-none are enough. A week after I viewed his profile, I received this email from him via LinkedIn: Shivers, I am so proud of your accomplishments. You have done very well it’s (sic) your life. I am sorry that I am so impaired. Shivers' father's name* (Please note, he did not sign it Dad. He signed his first name. JFC). After sort of freaking out (sort of??? ha, I actually started shaking as I read the email and C. thought someone must have died until I told him who it was from and what it said) I responded and told him I'd been thinking about him and had some questions. I included my email and phone number. Reader, he called me within three minutes of hitting "send" on that email. When the phone rang I saw that it was an Austin area code and answered. When he spoke, I recognized his voice right away. We talked for nearly an hour. I asked questions and he answered. Mostly, he did not speak ill of my mothers. Mostly. Mostly, I believed his version of things. Mostly. But when I asked him why he'd stopped talking to me, stopped responding to phone calls and letters and emails, he couldn't really answer. He had many reasons, none of which made much sense. Finally, he told me that he was undergoing ketamine therapy (which my aunt had already shared with me), but that he wasn't ready to see me again. We could email or talk on the phone, he said. It took me about a week to process that and a week later I emailed him some more questions. He emailed back and asked if we could set up a time to talk. The next day we talked for another hour. He told me he was proud of me and that he loved me. We haven't talked since. I haven't reached out. I don't know what to say. When my birthday came and went and I didn't hear from him I knew that things were still mostly in the same place. It all makes me a little numb, to be honest. I have some more questions for him that I may email him soon. A recent Google alert (yes, I know) recently informed me that he's temporarily moved to Iceland (!) for a prestigious fellowship. I should email. I should ask him more questions while I can. I'll regret it if I don't. 9:26 pm - 28.06.23
sounds: ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- previously on ... - next time on ...
driving through the canyon singing boys don't cry - 15.12.23 - 6:46 pm before i gotta go - 17.10.23 - 3:57 pm you oughta be glad that i'm getting good marks - 17.08.23 - 3:34 pm once I really listened the noise, it went away - 28.06.23 - 9:26 pm dear dad - 28.09.22 - 8:21 pm |
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