The Story of My Life: And the Phone Rings...

The last time I wrote, I told you I had figured out just how Elliott's family tree was connected to my second cousin, J.S.,  on Ancestry.com.  Elliot's dad was married to J.S.'s mom's cousin.  Now that I knew their families were connected, I knew that there were no other possibilities for my birth father other than Elliott or his brother, Dave. Because Elliott fit the profile from the adoption agency, I had written him on Facebook.  He never responded so I decided to send him an actual letter instead. You can read all about that here.

I mailed the letter on Friday, March 4th.  After I mailed it, I wasn't really sure what I needed to prepare myself for.  All these different scenarios kept popping in my head.  After all, who is to say he would even respond if he got the letter.  If he didn't know I existed, which there was always that possibility, the letter might not mean anything to him.  If he was the one to have a relationship with Carol, whose to say that relationship was anything more than a one night stand and that he would even remember who she was. Who was to say that he would be the one to even get the letter.  Maybe someone else opens his mail for him. I tried to prepare myself for the worst while still being hopeful for the best.

Every night when I went to bed, I would just lay there and pray.  Pray that if my birth father was Elliott, that he would be receptive to the letter and that he would respond. And then I prayed for his wife.  I tried to put myself in her shoes and imagine what it would feel like if my husband had a child that popped up out of nowhere.  I just knew that wouldn't be easy, especially since I had learned through my research that he had been married to the same lady for almost 40 years. 

Every day dragged on. I tried to focus on the tasks I needed to get done, but I would find myself at times just staring blankly into space thinking about it all.  I felt like I was so very close, but yet the littlest things were huge walls between me and what I was hoping to learn and know.

It is now Thursday, March 10th, six days after I had mailed the letter.  Zoe was being homeschooled at the time. My parents were splitting the subjects and teaching time with me.  I was teaching the math and science and they were teaching the reading/phonics and social studies. I would teach her my subjects and then drop her off at their house next door around 10:00. Most days she would stay there until after I had picked Josiah up from school.  On Thursdays, though, I would pick her up at 1:00 and take her to drama class before heading to pick up Josiah from his school.  This Thursday was no different.

I don't remember exactly what I was doing after I dropped Zoe off at my parent's house.  Whatever it was, I ended up getting ready pretty late in the day.  It was noon and I was just hopping in the shower.  I remember standing in there listening to Chris Tomlin's song, "Good, Good Father" playing over the bluetooth speaker in my bathroom.   I love how the second verse of the song seems to fit my current situation.  The lyrics go like this: 

I've seen many searching for answers far and wide
But I know we're all searching
For answers only you provide
'Cause you know just what we need
Before we say a word

It is a great song! If you have never had the chance to hear it, you can go here to check it out. 

Anyway, back to the story. I was in the shower, listening to the song, when my phone rang. I remember thinking, "Oh, I should get that. It is probably someone from the school calling."  I didn't feel like hopping out of the shower in a hurry and getting water all over the floor though. Then I thought, "Ah....whoever it is can leave a message.  I can call them back in a few minutes."

I finished up and got out of the shower. I was still dripping a bit. I walked over to my phone curious to see who had called.  It was a number I didn't recognize so I was glad I hadn't hurried to answer it.  I checked to see if they had left a voice mail message and they had.  I don't know if you have an iPhone or not, but I do, and when someone calls you that is not in your contacts, it tell you what city they are calling from based on the area code of the number.  When I saw the city that the call had come from, I started shaking. It came from Findlay, Ohio.

I started pacing the floor, shaking the whole time. I knew that I should listen to the message, but I was so scared.  Finally, I was able to take some deep breaths and calm down enough to be able to listen to the message.  It went something like this:

"Hello, this is Elliott Martin.  I received a letter from you last week.  Why don't we connect on Facebook and I will try to answer whatever questions you might have.  Please don't call my home."