It's a long story and I have little time so for now, I'll make this short:
I don't know my biological dad. He signed my brother and me off for adoption when I was 7 years old. He went on to have a new wife and family and never called nor wrote nor inquired as to our well-being.
It most definitely caused a lifelong struggle with security and esteem and abandonment issues. When he left he left a hole that could never be filled - it made me permanently weird inside. I worked a long time to make peace with it. The passage of time, some therapy, and having a family of my own has taken most of the edge off. Nowadays I'm simply curious - about my heritage, ethnicity, health history. I wonder what he's like and if we have anything in common. I wonder these things for myself but lately, more importantly, for my sons. I don't need a relationship with him. I don't need an apology. I do need to talk with him though. Before it's too late I need to talk with him.
Last night I decide that I've put off meeting him long enough - I haven't talked with him in over 35 years and decide if I'm ever to talk with him and get some info and perhaps a little closure, I'd better do it soon before he gets too old and something happens. Rather easily, I find my half-brother on the internet. Almost compulsively, I write. I press send. He wrote back this morning.
My biological father was diagnosed with lung cancer which has spread to his lymph nodes and stomach - this was 2-3 weeks ago. He has 3-6 months to live.
Holy shit.
I'm not sure how this is going to go.
