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Unconditional Love

By Christine Haynes

I was 6 when I met him, who knew it would be 25 years

Over the last couple of weeks I have taken a journey of elaborate twists and turns that would lead me to a moment in time where without words or gestures all my questions about myself, would be answered. And, a deeper understanding of the meaning of forgiveness and unconditional love would be revealed.

I was 6 years old when I met my biological father. I barely remember what he looked like, and I only saw him a few times after that first meeting.

A funny thing about life is it goes on and mine did–I grew up, went to school, held some jobs, lost both my parents, gained a husband, and had two babies. In between all that life stuff, I did think about him, I did ask about him and I did look for him.

My father in his youth: (right). I was never really angry at my father for not being around, but as I got older I became curious and I just wanted to know who he was and if I was anything like him. After all, I didn't resemble anyone in my family not my mother and not my step sisters. My mother was white and my step sisters were from her first marriage and they were also white, but my father was black.

Though I am interracial I was always told I most resembled my father. If only I could remember what he looked like.

As I got older I began to ask questions about my biological father, but I didn't really get the full story until my mother became ill. It wasn't until her time was coming to a close that she gave me bits and pieces of information on the person that I barely remembered, but according to my mother so greatly resembled.

Face to face with my father (left). His name was Frank Johnson. He was from Jamaica. He was devastatingly handsome, a hard worker and a good person with a big heart. There was one catch he was already taken, so was my mother. I was the result of a brief affair between the two.

When my mother passed away I found the telephone number of the only other person that knew both the truth and my father personally.

I called her to tell her my mom had passed away, and then thinking this might be my chance, I asked her if she knew where my father was. It was unfortunate but during that time she did not know but said that she would try to find him for me...we kept in touch here and there but eventually lost touch. I married, changed my name, my address, my phone number, jobs, and eventually moved out of the state.

Fast forward to February 2007 I was feeling nostalgic and decided to sort through some of my mother’s old stuff, and came across the phone number of the person that knew my father. I started to think, I wondered if she is still there, and I was overwhelmed by the desire to call—just to see.

I dialed, it rang, and to my shock she answered.

The conversation went something like—

Hi this is Christine - June's daughter.

Chris! Is it really you?!

Oh my gosh, we were looking for you—your family is looking for you we could not find you all this time. Where have you been?

Needless to say, we immediately exchanged information and she promised to call me back with my father’s telephone number.

A few days went by and I became nervous...was she going to call me? Was this really happening...did I really find my father?

Yes I did—I found my father, my step mother, 8 brothers and sisters’ 20 nieces and nephews and a whole slew of aunts and uncles!!

I found my family!

My step father was killed when I was 11, my mother passed away from cancer when I was 21 and my relationship with my step sisters and my mothers side of the family was basically non-existent. I would have no one if I didn’t have my husband, my children and my friends that I have adopted as family over the years.

And now suddenly everything has changed I found my father, I found my family and they wanted to be found they were looking for me—about a year or two after I tried to find them they were trying to find me.

When I called my fathers home in Florida, my step mother answered and in the first 5 minutes she asked me when I could come out, and then she told me the good and bad news.

She was so happy she found me. She was looking for me and wanted very much to find me. I had 8 brothers and sisters, and they all knew about me and wanted to meet me.

Unfortunately, my father was very, very ill - my heart sank. I almost always knew deep down that when/if I found my father he would either be gone or sick my worst fears came true. My father had two strokes, and he could no longer walk or speak. He was being cared for at home.

Nothing else mattered I had to see him. We packed up the car and the kids and hit the road to Florida.

When we arrived at the house where my father was, I sat in the car for a minute, not sure what I was feeling. When I stepped out of the car she was in the door smiling. My stepmother welcomed me with a hug, and we stood in her living room for a few moments taking it all in. She was equally as shocked as I was. I looked around the house and saw the pictures of my father. Turns out I do look like him, and from what I was told am very much like him. It was amazing to discover while speaking to my stepmother and later my sisters that even though I was not raised with my father I maintain many of his mannerisms and personality traits. Turns out I already knew much about him. He was in me.

She took me to see my father…

have my father’s hands: (right). As I looked at him lying there so fragile, almost childlike, I thought, this was the moment I had been waiting for but it was not at all how I hoped it would be. I wanted him to be able to speak to me I wanted to be able to walk and talk with him for hours. I was at first sad, but at the same time still mindful that I had to be grateful that he was still here, and I was able to see him before he passed away. Nothing else really mattered. I just wanted to be with him I just wanted to see him again.

Something amazing happened, as I stood there watching him sleep, he opened his eyes and looked at me. I smiled and said hi dad. His eyes began to well up, he didn't need to speak a word, he knew who I was, and he was happy to see me.

Goodbye Daddy…

As I sat with my father over the next few hours, and then the next few days, I found comfort in the peace I felt in his presence. I found there was no need for words. When I walked in the room, he looked right at me and I knew in my heart he knew who I was. Though he could not speak a word, the love in his eyes spoke volumes. I was his child he was my father, and that bond was never broken. Nothing else mattered—love is truly unconditional—and God is truly the orchestrator of all things. The path is written even before we are born, and we can not, no matter how hard we try, change that. This was the moment this was the time. And no, this moment was not how I imagined it would be. But, it was as it should have been, and it was perfect.

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