Part 2 - The Fairy Tale Ending

And they lived happily ever after!

We are all suckers for a fairy tale ending. Myself included. There have been a couple occasions in my life where I thought I was truly going to have that epic fantastical outcome. This was one of them. This WAS like a Disney Movie. Sandra Bullock would play me and Robert Wagner would play my dad. 

And then… People. Life. Past behaviour that is also current behaviour. Then there's the fears and stuff. Stuff like my attachment and abandonment issues. Rejection issues. Trust issues. And then there’s… you know… the shame. They all get in the way.   

I’m reminded of a letter Carolyn once wrote me. In it, among other things, she told me that I should be very grateful that Granny and Grandad had taken me in and raised me. The message I heard from her letter was something like this:
You aren’t worth much kid. You didn’t have a lot of takers. No options. You're so lucky you weren't  abandoned altogether. 
You are beholden to Granny and Grandad. You have a responsibility to them. You owe them. So don’t blow this. Your position in their house isn’t all that secure. 
I (Carolyn) have abdicated responsibility for your care or well-being. You, “honey”, are my emotional proxy, never forget that. (OK - I didn’t learn that term “emotional proxy” until many years later…but yeah...it wouldn't be my first brush with being an emotional proxy so...).
Yeah…years and years of stuff. 

Here I was, with the best possible outcome anyone could ever have imagined when meeting a long lost father, and I was having my struggles with it. 

It was not a panacea for all my wounds; partly because it didn’t cause all my wounds.

Add 34 years in a marriage that was...umm...eventful...to the first 18 years of my life and the issues start to pile up. Now I was faced with trying to attach myself to a dad I didn’t know. A stranger. Having spent my whole life learning to protect myself from hurt, I had very advanced security systems to warn me of impending danger to my heart and soul. They are akin to an annoying smoke detector that blares and beeps and screams at the first hint of smoke from the toaster.  

Smoke Detector: "Beeeeeeeep!!"

Me: “Shut up, it’s just toast!  I’ve got this.”

Smoke Detector: “Beeeeep!! Sorry - it’s my job to warn you of impending destruction. Where there's smoke there's fire.  Beeeeep!!”  

I haven’t figured out how to take the batteries out of my emotional smoke detector yet. And maybe I shouldn’t because a good outcome still has the potential for hurt.  

In no particular order, what will follow in the next few chapters are some of the issues I have had to face and work through as I walk this new path with my dad. **Warning - some of the stuff is kind of hard to wade through, but rest assured, I'm no longer stuck in the mire of it all. 
Credit:  Zsa Zsa Bellagio.tumbler.com

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