Meeting

So, I met my birth family this month. It was partly surreal, partly wonderful. My father and his wife and step-son met me at the airport. It was amazing. He is half of the reason I am on this planet. I was my usually suave self in the baggage claim, where we met. When I saw him, I was about to get a suitcase off the carousel. I was flustered, and that helped my dork self emerge. I got the case, turned, lost one sandal, then dropped my purse before hugging him. Oh yes, I am suave.

Quit laughing.

I look like my father. Even our tans are the same shade. I smile like he does. I have a build like he does. I could try to explain the effect that had on me, but I would not be able to do justice to it. I have a father. I come from somewhere, from someone. I am introverted like he is. It is amazing.

When he was driving me to the airport, I mentioned that the kids were looking forward to me coming home.

"Well, you have been gone a while," he said to me, "How long have you been gone, about two months?"

"No, Dad, not two months. It has only been seven weeks."

He glanced at me, then turned back to the road. "The last time I checked, seven weeks was about two months." He was laughing at me :P

Quit giggling.

I miss being around him, being near him. There was something so right about it, something that gave me peace, and a sense of belonging. I want to see him again, make sure it was not all a dream.

~Quick