I thought I’d start out this story by telling you how it ends. I think my father is dead.
Now, I know this sounds dramatic and I don’t know this for sure, but after more than 20 years of searching – and two psychic readings later – I’m feeling pretty convinced.
Some of you are probably confused, because I’ve written about my dad before. When I say “father” in this instance, I’m not referring to Jim, the man who had the herculean task of raising me. I’m talking about Ron, the person with whom I share my genetics.
Unlike my birth mother, who I obsessively searched for and eventually found, I never really gave much thought to my biological father. Sure, on occasion, after meeting my birth mom, I started to wonder more about him. Do I look like him? Do we share mannerisms? Does he think of me?
Despite my periodic curiosity, it was never enough to pursue knowing him. Never once did I question why he deserted my mother the moment he discovered she was pregnant. She was 16, and I assumed he just wasn’t ready.
So, a ghost he became.
You can probably put together what happened to me. I was adopted into a big, beautiful family who provided all the love and luxuries a birth mom could hope for. But, despite all of this, every so often I become completely consumed with the search. Before it was for my mother and now it’s for him.
November 2017
About four (maybe five) years ago, two ladies who owned a bakery in town (you might know them!), shared a story about a friend of theirs in Des Moines who is a “psychic.” I was skeptical, yet equally fascinated to learn about Laura, who claims to be clairaudient (psychic hearing), clairvoyant (psychic seeing) and “has access to divine guidance.”
My friend, who had gone through a divorce, started a business and eventually closed her business, had periodically consulted Laura for guidance. Last November, while in a desperate moment, I reached out to Laura and did the same.
“What do you want to talk about?” she asked.
I never told her my name, but I did tell her that I was seeking general guidance on life. Our hourlong discussion involved a lot of talk about relationships, love, career, money and life purpose. After 45 minutes, I wasn’t totally impressed, but then she dropped something heavy on me.
“I have to tell you this,” she said.
Laura proceeds to tell me, that when an entity (a spirit) appears, they usually appear on her upper right.
I feel confused. I'm thinking, "What is happening right now? What?"
She explains that she has to deliver a message to me because this spirit walked in front of her in an attempt to gain my attention.
“He’s like a father figure. It’s your father,” she said.
At this point. It doesn’t make sense to me and I tell her so.
“You haven’t lost your father? He’s telling me he’s your father, or at least someone who was like a father figure to you,” she insists.
Her words still aren’t registering with me, and at this point I feel like our visit was time and money wasted.
“He’s telling me about water. A pool. Does that make sense to you?” she asked.
“No,” I tell her. But, then it dawned on me. My mother and father met one summer while swimming at a friend’s house. It’s one of the handful of details I know. But, still skeptical, I keep my poker face on and this detail to myself.
“He just wants me to tell you that he’s really sorry. He says he just wasn’t ready,” Laura explains.
Then our time ended.
September 2018
A few weeks ago, while leaving Dubuque, a friend and I drive past a nondescript house in a suburban area. There’s a sign in the window that reads, “palm reading” and “psychic,” and the sign indicates it’s open.
“Do you want to stop?” he asks.
“Sure,” I shrug.
We walk up the steps and I knock on the door. A man who appears to be in his late 30s or early 40s opens the door. He’s wearing pajama pants. In his defense, it’s only 9 a.m.
“I’m not open yet,” he said.
I tell the man we’ll come back, but he invites us in since we’re already there.
He leads us down a hall, to a room in the back of his house. There, like a scene straight out of a movie, a crystal ball sits on a table. He leaves for a moment, but returns and asks how he can help.
We tell him we’re not there for anything in particular – just curious. He offers descriptions of his services and their prices.
We both request a palm reading. He offered one or both palms. I requested both, only because I was hoping for more details. And, boy, details I got.
He told me a number of things, but they were things that could pretty much apply to anyone. You know, the typical blanketed statements that so-called psychics use to convince someone they can communicate with the deceased, read your thoughts and accept all major credit cards. But then he blew my mind.
As he sat across from me with his eyes closed, our hands are nestled together and generating sweat. He ponders for a few minutes, then his eyelids fly open.
“You have a very strong connection to California,” he said. “And, you’re going there soon.”
I couldn’t help but smile. (I’m a native). And, yes. I had just booked a trip.
He tells me about the fight I’m having with someone out there, and that I just need to let it blow over; that it’s not worth arguing about. He says he senses it’s a sibling, but it’s actually my daughter.
He then tells me about a presence – my father.
Chills run down my spine and goosebumps cover my body.
“He says he’s sorry and he wants you to forgive him,” he tells me twice.
Forgiveness
In hearing those words for the second time, I realized that I had already forgiven my father.
From birth, I have allowed myself to be open to love and be loved again, which has allowed me to release any anger, resentment or hurt that I might otherwise harbor. The ability to forgive does not mean I condone certain behavior, actions or decisions, but rather, that I understand them. And, when I seek to understand, it fills me with peace.
He may have not wanted to rear a child, but it was my absent father who taught me my earliest lessons in forgiveness. And, I think this is one of the single most important lessons a parent can teach their child.