Ours Not to Reason Why

This is why I wanted to find him sooner. I'd chalked it up to my imagination - hearing all those stories of people who drift from their fathers at a young age, only to reconcile years later (usually at about sixteen or so) and lose him within a few more years - these are not good things for an imagination like mine to hear. My imagination runs rampant with things like this. This time, though, I was afraid it would happen to me.

In my junior year of high school, I began taking steps to find Dad. I figured maybe he'd like to see me graduate. I gleaned what I could of where he was last known to be and what information could be gotten off my birth certificate and what Mom remembered. They all kept pointing to the same place, but nothing definite could be gotten - no contact info.

The search continued through senior year, though not as earnest - I searched the internet when it tickled my fancy, often getting the same results. Graduation came and went. No luck.

Freshman year of college, I'd just about put up the cause to lost. I had a new environment to take in, new people to meet from all over, several classes to keep up with. He got pushed to the back of my mind, and because it seemed pointless to even try anymore, I didn't. That summer, however...

That summer, I searched his surname only. Instead of the usual city, though, I found one several hours away. It so happened that I knew someone in this city, and I contacted them, asking them to search the name in the phonebook. The guy was good enough to not act too creeped out, and gave me the information. After some hemming and hawing (and some pushing from a friend) I contacted him again, this time asking for the area code. I called the number that seemed most promising, got voicemail, and left a message something to the effect of

Um, hi, uh, this is going to be a slightly awkward message,
but...uh...there is a good possibility that you might be
my half-sister.
Yeah.
Um...If that's possible, here's my number, let me know if
I'm right, and if not, feel free to call back and tell me not
to leave odd messages like this randomly.
Uh...yeah.
Thanks.

That night, I recieved a phone call from her. I was right. She was my half-sister. We talked until I ran out of time on my phone, and the next night, we chatted it up for over an hour. Eventually the talk turned to why I got in contact with them, and I told her about my attempts to find Dad. She said she'd do what she could to have him call me, and that she appreciated my calling her and actually leaving a message.

As the summer went on, we stayed in contact, and our devious plans began unfolding - she was coming for a conference in the area and figured we could get Dad roped into a lunch somewhere. It was a great plan I thought. No way for his fiancee to know (that's a whole other deal) that I was involved. I got up on the day, started trying to figure out something decentish to wear instead of my usual t-shirt, and in the middle of all this, the phone rang.

Hey, Brie? Lunch won't be happening today...

Oh, it won't? Why?

Well...Dad was taken to
ER
this morning with symptoms of what looks
like a stroke.
They're still doing
tests on him, but so far they can't figure out
what's wrong.
He's asleep right now, and
everyone's here, all the aunts and uncles...
Brie? Are you ok?

I think so...

Yeah, me too. I'll keep you up to date
as I know, ok?

Ok...

Take care and God bless.

Yeah...you too...

Luckily she, Mom, and I got together that weekend still for lunch, and I finally got to meet her and hear the latest on Dad. Maybe an hour after we parted ways my phone vibrated - Dad had been released earlier in the day, and they were pretty sure they knew the cause. Relief at last for all involved.

Then school started up again, and here I sit.

My phone was off and charging last night, so I missed Mom's call. She left a message, though.

Hey hon, it's me, gimme a call if you
get the chance, ok? Thanks,
talk to you later...Bye.

So I called her back this morning.

Well, I was kinda hoping you'd call last night...

Sorry, phone was off and charging...

Well yeah. Um...your dad's
back in the hospital. He's had
six strokes since he's been there.

...

And here I sit, those stories of fathers and children racing through my head.

Will mine be one of them?