Larry...You are not the father!

Words cannot even begin to describe the day that I have had today...

I was sitting at home when my phone rang. It was the contracting company that I interviewed with yesterday. When I answered the phone all I got was a dial tone. I had only heard one ring but I thought that perhaps they went to the voice mail. So I listen to all my old voice mails. Towards the end was a message from my aunt Mattie. She had called to tell me that some woman named Fran from Akron is trying to reach me, my mother and my brother. She says for me to call her back and she'll give me the number. From her tone I gathered that something bad had happened and she didn't want to leave it on a voice mail.

Now I have no idea who the heck Fran is but since she asked for me and my mom and brother and she's from Akron I assume it has something to do with my dad. I tried calling my aunt but I did not get an answer. After the second call I decided to call my mother. I thought that maybe she knew what was going on. I give her a call and tell her about the message I had gotten from Mattie. She knew right away who Fran was. She said that she was a friend of Larry's (dad). Apparently Fran has been instructed to never call unless there is an emergency so this must mean that something is wrong. She speculates that Larry may be sick or something. We agree that which ever one of us talks to my aunt first will call the other one back; then we hang up the phone.

So later on I get a call form my mother. I was dealing with an issue with my daughter so I don't answer the phone. I finally call her back about an hour later and she answers. She tells me that the reason why Fran called was to tell her that Larry's mother had died. There is a long pause and then I ask her if she's planning on going to the service. She said that she didn't know when it was and if I was interested in going she'd give me Fran's number so I could call and get the information. I told here that I had nothing to say to them. So we got off the phone and I am just sitting at my table looking at my daughter. I start to tell her about the phone call when my phone rings again. It was mom.

She says to me "You know sometimes I'm slow. I was just thinking about the conversation we just had. I wanted to make sure that you knew Larry isn't your dad." And just like that she crushed my whole world, because in fact I did not know that Larry wasn't my dad. Why would I since she's never told me this before. I figure the next logical thing would be for her to tell me who my dad is but she apparently doesn't know what logic is. I am forced to then ask the obvious question. She tells me that my father's name is Robert. Again, logic is lost on her as she does not tell me a last name. I have to ask. She says that she can't remember right now.

Huh? You don't remember...

She tells me that he was a very nice man. If I ever want to know anything about him I can ask her. Then the kicker..."I really thought that I had told you. Sorry." Just like that.  Like it was something trivial that she'd neglected to mention.   thought very loudly "How about his fucking last name you whore!" What I said was..."uhhh ok"? Then she says..."You know you have a sister. She looks just like you." I'm speechless at this point. Lots of things are going through my mind. Things like "that explains a lot." "You selfish bitch!" "Whore!"

Of course I don't say any of these things. Why not? Because I am a good person. A person who holds shit in until she explodes and ends up in therapy. That kind of person does not call their mother a fucking whore and then hang up the phone. But I wanted to. Part of me wishes that I had. I still might come to think of it. I always thought that parents were supposed to take care of their kids. Protect them. Love them. Sacrifice for them. My mother has done none of these things. She may have given birth to three children but she is not a mother. I don't know what she is.

I don't know who I am...

So here I am. I'm 35 years old and I don't know who my father is. The man I thought was my father I hate. One good thing came out of today. I no longer hate my dad. Now I just hate the guy who was fucking my mother. Strangely it is better. I now have this desire to find my dad and sister. If nothing else just to say that I've seen them once in my life. I just want to know where I came from. I always thought I knew that but today I find out that a big part of my life is a lie.

Where am I supposed to put this?