If the answer is 42, then what exactly is the question?

I'm writing this here instead of facebook because I have some family members who are having a hard time right now, and I'm not sure they will understand my feelings. I'm not sure I understand them myself. What's going on, you ask? My step-grandfather passed away Saturday, and my grandmother passed away Tuesday. Both on my biological father's side of the family. Yes, that's right, my dad is not my father. <insert Star Wars joke here>

First, a small novel of exposition: My dad adopted me when I was twelve years old. He has raised me from the age of 4, and is one of two positive male role models that I had growing up. The other is my grandfather on my mother's side. Have you ever heard the saying, "Any idiot can be a father, but it takes a real man to be a dad."? If so, I'd like to hug the person that said it first, because it can't be said any better.

My father was my grandmother's "perfect child," even though I perceive him to be scum of the lowest level. When I was born, she was delighted, Perfect Billy had a Perfect Daughter. When my mom decided neither of us needed to be in a world filled with illegal drugs and alcohol and was STRONG ENOUGH to get us out, he told his side of the family that part of the divorce decree was that they were not allowed to contact me. Of course, all untrue.

My parents never made a secret of who my father was, and in fact, my mother even allowed me to look at her wedding albums several times as a child. There was a stranger with my eyes staring back at me in the pictures. He showed up once when I was six, begging to see me after three years of not paying child support. Never wanting it to be said that she kept my father from me, against her better judgement, my mother allowed him to see me. He smelled strange to me. Later, I would realize that was because he had alcohol on his breath and smelled like freshly burnt marijuana. Not a comfortable realization. I didn't see him again after that until I turned 18 and decided to look for him.

In spite of not paying child support, the first year after my dad adopted me and tried to claim me on his taxes, he was audited by the IRS. Why is that? Because Scum of the Earth had been claiming me as a dependent to get the Earned Income Tax Credit from the time I was born. None of that money went to feed or clothe me. As much as I love my parents, I will admit we struggled, and if it weren't for my mom's parents, and other people who loved us, there are days we would have gone to bed hungry.

Well, deciding at 18 that people can change, and possessing all the naivete and wonder of a newly minted adult, I decided to seek him out. I found him working as a waiter at a Miami cafe. I took a friend with me and we went to have dinner. He actually paid for dinner. He fed me once in my life! He called me at 3AM and left an incoherent message, and then disappeared after I found out I had a 6 month old sister who he hadn't seen in 3 months. Yes, there are two of us now. Undeterred, I decided to seek out that side of the family. I had an uncle and an aunt, grandparents and cousins that I hadn't met. I even traveled to Trenton (more on that in a bit) to meet them all. Grandmom seemed happy to see me but distant all at the same time. My uncle and aunt were overjoyed to finally met me. It was so surreal at the time.

I think that I can understand Grandmom's point of view. Perfect Billy wouldn't be perfect if she had to process that he abandoned both of his daughters. I always wondered as a child what was wrong with me that he wouldn't want anything to do with me. I mean, hey, I was an ADORABLE CHILD:

And yes, I had eyes from the movie "Dune." The spice must flow, okay? Geez.....

  

Now, back to the matter at hand: Grandmom never reached out to me at all. Speaking to my sister, she never reached out to her either. Both of us are lucky that we had other grandparents who loved us and had healthy grandparent-spoil-the-crap-out-of-you-because-that's-their-prerogative relationships with us. However, it's hard to process that there are people who share your genetics whom appear not to give a single tiny millisecond of thought about how you are, or who you grew up to be. Not cool.

I spoke to Grandmom maybe three times after I found them, all because I initiated the contact. No Christmas cards, no birthday cards, no acknowledgment or existence, no anything. So, while I am sad and upset, and the pictures from my childhood that I haven't been able to scan yet that show her holding me as a baby made me cry, it was honestly because we didn't get to know each other better during her time here on Earth. Time here is short, people. Acknowledge your mistakes, love your friends and family, forgive what you can, and move on. Lesson learned, for me, at least. While I still hold a grudge against my sperm donor, so called because he might as well have been with as much involvement as he had in my life, I am learning to let it go and not bother. After all, I had a dad who loved me. 

The SUN! It burns meh!!! Cute family, right?

Anyway, I feel for my Aunt, Uncle and cousins who had both Charles and Carol as part of their lives for as long as they can remember. I am sure they were wonderful people, and again, I wish I had been able to get to know them better. 

This brings me to another point. I am attempting to go to the funeral. It's in Trenton. Yeah, the armpit of New Jersey. 

The brown body of water? That's a river. You are probably screaming "j'accuse!" at your computer screen right now, but it's TRUE! Look it up. I can't find a flight to this lovely tropical scenery for less than $500 plus baggage and fees. I have even checked close cities. The closest I can get is Philadelphia, an hour drive. The airport in Trenton proper operates one flight in and one flight out, only from Orlando in Florida, and only on Fridays and Mondays. I don't want to be stuck there for four days, because I can promise you that I can only ignore Perfect Billy for 24-48 hours if he's physically present.

I honestly think that if these airlines had ever actually BEEN to this place, they wouldn't charge so much to get there. How many people actually WANT to go there for vacation?? A friend of mine is attempting to get me a "buddy pass" which would let me fly for free. That would be awesome and amazing if it happened. If not, I am sending flowers to the service, with an untraceable address, so Perfect Billy can't find me. I'm better off without him.