I talked about you with Rusty at dinner tonight. It just came out of nowhere.
After dinner he was going to help Jimmy Wyrick with an air conditioner. I jokingly said “hey…find out where my daddy is”.
When Rusty came back he handed me a small piece of orange paper with your name and telephone number written on it.
He said you live about 10 minutes from us.
10 minutes.
I held this piece of paper in disbelief.
Words escaped me.
Lately I find myself thinking about you.
It started with just quick wonders when my mind was silent but it has progressed into lengthy thoughts.
This is a new thing for me. Over the years it has been nothing more than an occasional quick thought, mostly from curiosity.
I never once considered looking you up.
Now, as I’m getting older and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror I see my Mother and I wonder…is there a resemblance of my father somewhere?
I only recall seeing you on a couple of occasions in my life.
One of these times I can remember like it was yesterday.
I will never forget.
I was a teenager and working in McDonalds on Summit Avenue and you walked in the door.
I looked at you and immediately knew who you were.
I was the front cashier and you came to my register.
I asked you for your order and as you gave it, I searched your face for any sign that you might know me.
There was no sign.
As I gathered your food I continued to carefully look for any indication that you might be wondering.
There was no indication.
I completed your order and told you to have a nice day.
You said Thank You.
And with that you turned and walked out in what seemed like slow motion.
I just stood there alone as my eyes welled up with tears trying to quickly collect my thoughts and continue with my job, unable to share that with anyone.
I was consumed with a deep sadness.
I distinctly remember that the sadness was not for me, it was for you.
The thought that someone could have a child in this world…in the same city…and not know them, not even recognize their face filled me with great sadness.
Even as a teenager that was unimaginable to me.
I do not hold any animosity toward you.
Sometimes Life hands us all things that we are not prepared to handle.
Most of us do the best we can with what we have and what we know.
I have a great family. It makes me sad that you have missed out on being a part of it.
I just don’t want to have any regrets.
I don’t want our time to end without at least a proper meeting.
I want to see you…look at you…study your face…let our eyes connect and exchange a smile.
I want to watch you walk.
I want to recognize you.
I want you to recognize me.
As this little orange piece of paper lies beside my keyboard, I wonder…will I call you?
Probably not.
