February 23, 2023 - Ibby, Part 1

February 23, 2023 - As I’m looking back on all of this, I can see this was a time where I was so full of hope. (Stupid.) I thought I was going to connect with my half-sister and maybe my father and half-brother. I worried that my father might not be ready or want to hear from me, but I was going to put myself out there to see what happened. As much as it bites me in the ass, and it will, I am always the one reaching out to connect. I carry relationships even beyond their life expectancy. I wanted to hear his side of the story about how everything happened before and after I was born. I wanted to get to know him as an adult. I wanted for him to have a chance to get to know me. 

In my last post, I shared how I was able to reach out to my half-sister on facebook. We chatted a little bit on messenger that afternoon and then I woke up to a long message from her.

Up until now the messages and posts have been public posts (and maybe still are, I'm not scrolling that far back on my father's facebook to find out) and I’ve left them as they were, other than deleting some names. He has misspelled words and typos - I've left them as they were in his posts.

When it comes to private conversations, I am fine with sharing my side, and will do more when we get to emails later on. I have fact-checked as much as I can with research into public records. But now I’m getting into a murky area with private conversations and I’m torn. Do I give as much care and consideration that was afforded to me (i.e., none at all - not when I was a kid or in 2023) or is there some middle ground where I can share both sides of the story and conversations without going too far? Not sure where that line is. 

Anyway, I woke up on this day to a long message on facebook from my half-sister. She wrote:

“I’ve heard stories about your mother….not necessarily how they met or what happened between them or what not, but definitely how messed up of a mother she was to you….(so they both acknowledge that I didn't have a storybook childhood, but neither of them will extend any grace to me) Can’t say my own mother was the best or even that my dad was either, but we all do what we can with the tools we’ve been given to be the best parents that we can to our own children. Some of us have primitive tools and do better than some who have cutting edge ones…. Effort and self awareness are really key here as I’m sure you well know. I don’t know if you’re an only child or not but since you have children of your own, you know that their perception is reality. My dad did the best he could with the tools he had and he’s made lots of mistakes but at least he knows that he has. I think you found out that he was your biological dad when you were in college after your real dad died. (Interesting that she called my mother's first husband my real dad) That’s a real shame because he would’ve taken that opportunity to be the best dad that he could’ve been to you, even though it may not have lived up to your ideal. (I didn't have any ideals or expectations) My dad’s made his peace with his past. To say simply that is an understatement. He has no quarrels saying that he made mistakes and telling you if you can’t get over that then have a good life. He doesn’t chase and he won’t beg or plead. He is who is he take it or leave it. (He doesn't give a single shit and isn't going to start now) He knows he’s made mistakes but he also knows he did the best he knew how. My advice to you, as a fellow child of less than perfect parents, is to do the best you can do with your own children with the tools you’ve been given, and to try and understand our dad as the person he is rather than to try and relate him to any story you’ve been told by any of your other family members…”

So at the time, I read this and took it with hope. It sounded like he had had time to reflect on his life, his choices, and might have been open to making amends. I hoped that they would accept me too. I hoped that by extending compassion and understanding I would receive that in kind. Oh, how wrong I was.

Now I look back and wonder why did my half-sister knew more about my mother than I did. Why is she talking about how it was a shame and he would have been the best dad he could to me? And as for living up to my ideal? I didn’t have any ideal - not back when I was in college and not in 2023. I was hoping to be accepted and hoping that that they would be interested to get to know me too. As for “he doesn’t chase”, that’s accurate. He never took any interest in me when I was growing up, not when I found him when I was in college, and it would be just a short time before I would see that he hadn’t changed. 

He wrote (publicly) on facebook - “Do you believe in the interconnectedness of the universe?  Synchronicity perhaps? The preordination of everything by a divine being to fufill a predetermined purpse?  I believe a few of mu friends do belive that based on recent replies.

Well as you probably know I've neen traveling in Dante's lower levels of Hades for the past few days. Then out of nowhere appears a ghost from the past unseen in 3 decades. Can it be?  According to my personal philosophy, probably so. (I assume he meant me as the ghost from the past. I wonder how he felt, what intentions he had.)

I've talked about my first wife and I've talked about my second wife. Now let's talk about the inbetweener.  (Ibby, part 1)

For obvious reasons the only real person's name in this series will be my own.  Family knows who they are but  real names don't affect the story. Not even a little bit. Since she was the inbetweener, I'm gonna call her Ibby. It's a good name.

I explained my first wife's  proclivity to screw anyone that she could but apparently there were a few failures. Do you know how big a looser you have to be when you can't get Pass Around Sally?  All I can think of is that they were single.  She liked married men for the most part.

Well after I got out of the hospital from my well intended suicide attempt (30 days for the curious) my neighbor from 2 houses up comes over to tell me that she wondered how long it was going to take before I figured it out. (This verifies the story I’d heard back in 1999 that he was suicidal.)

First off I'm a little pissed that she's telling me that she knew from two houses up and didn't say anything but I'm also curious. So far as I knew no one had put together my wife's hook up with the guy at then end of the street and my breakdown/seperation. (I hadn’t known that my father lived in the same neighborhood as my mother and her family. The house at the end of the street he refers to is where I grew up. What he shares next was news to me.)

So I ask her what she's talking about? She tells me about the two guys on motorcycles coming by the house after I leave for work and staying until 3 to 4 am all the time. My first thought was MC friends of mine but she says no the bikes were rice burners. I asked if she knew anything else about them and I'm told one of them drives a red Firebird when he comes by himself. 

Well that narrows it down a lot. I'm no longer homicidal over the first wife so I just file it away for future reference. I also know who his running mate is on the bike.  Let's call them Lenny and Squiggy. Lenny driving the Firebird. 

Well eventually I get the chance to date Lenny's girlfriend. Hope reigns  eternal. Nothing happens though. I find out that she's 17. Hey I may be a real SOB but I still got a few standards. Lucky thing too cause I find out that the mousy looking blond 17 year old is pregnant. The plan was to sow doubt about who was the baby's daddy. Well we never left the house where her momma and daddy were to chaperone for our one and only date. That rules me out. (Why, if he has standards, did he go on any dates with a minor? He was in his mid-20s by this point.)

Just showing the quality of people we're dealing with here for future reference. Myself included. I was not good people then. You may not think I'm good people now when I finish this miniseries. (Yeah. As I will soon find out.)

Now Lenny's momma and daddy sport from Hendersonville but live in west Charlotte. Daddy is a dispatcher for Thurston Motor Lines.  His mama likes to run 1000 watts talking to truckers on the CB radio. He has one sister who is married to a dummy in the army stationed in Germany. She hangs out with a semi pro hockey player in Charlotte. Then there's his little sister Ibby. (He mentions Hendersonville, which is about 40 miles off, but same part of the state. By this part of the post I know that Ibby is my mother, and I’ve figured out who Lenny is, but I’m not 100% who Squiggy might be.)

Let's stop here for today. This is going to be pretty long. Actually it's gonna be damned long so let's not get burned out. If it bores you or drags you down don't read. Just move along.

But... just to tie it together so you know. An as yet to be named member of this menagerie has  popped back into my life today after a 30 year absence. So we will get there I promise. (Yup, it’s me. It had been 24 years since 1999, but sure.)

Some people can't face facts even when they have no idea what the facts were. Oh well. What can I say. If you successfully ran away from the truth and got away with it then you should have let it be. (Was he talking to me here? I have always faced facts. More than most, I’d say. I have spent entirely too much of my life in search of truth and facts because I know a large portion of what I was told were lies. I have never run from the truth. But he’s right - I should have let him be. Another red flag I ignored.)

Peace” 

Again, I’ve left his post as it was with the original grammar and typos. I have added my thoughts in parentheses and in bold.

I've been sitting on this post for a couple of weeks and actually ended up splitting it in parts because it was so long. This is just my recollections from a single day, February 23, 2023. Next time I'll share more of the Ibby story. It's a doozy.