About a year I go I wrote about a dilemma I had about meeting my biological father. I had been reluctant to get into contact with him because I was already having  trouble with the other two men that had an opportunity to play Papa. Unfortunately Bio-Dad, James, had been diagnosed with colon cancer, and time may have become a factor. I knew that if I didn't take the chance when I had it, I may regret my selfishness in the future. So I open the line of communication between the two of us. And it was just as weird as I thought it would be.

 Being as introverted personally as I am it began a very slow quid pro quo. James and I had very similar lives through the good and the bad. I've always had a hard time with my childhood, because I never want people to feel sorry for me, as did he. It was truly the first time that I could hear another story and feel connected to it. It can be difficult when you are adopted to sense a connection with family members, or siblings because you are not actually connected. Although that can be a positive when your family does something crazy and you can say to yourself, "well, at least I'm not like them!"

 When I found out I was adopted, it didn't affect me because I was blessed by a wonderful mother. This was someone who loved the little afro man. I was hers and no piece of paper, or DNA test could take that away. My siblings are the same. You'll never win an argument with them(I've tried) that I'm not their blood. It's always comforted me when I crawl into that dark place and think I'm alone. James didn't have this blessing. He lived with a family that enjoyed the cheque the government gave them far more than him. He was beaten, abused constantly, and lived a life of fear as young child. I could relate the horrors of stronger man taking out misplaced rage onto a child. It kind of funny that the first connection that we shared was something so terrible. It immediately brought us together. When he escaped the shackles of foster life he moved to the big city of Halifax and dove deep into the bar scene as a bartender( sounds vaguely familiar) From there every temptation was explored. Including a one-night stand with a young student from PEI. (and boom goes the Hrushowy)
  James continued down a bumpy path, and it lead him to some extremely morbid places. Incarceration, drug abuse, but when it was time to figure out life he did. The path led him to the bible, which bought him a new lease on life. He met his future wife, had a daughter, and turned his life into what he always wanted. As years went by, he focused on righting the wrongs of his past. He sought out an estranged daughter, and yours truly. His request was simple, he just wanted to meet me and know the son he didn't know he had. After all he didn't even learn about my existence until 28 yrs after I was born. Bio-Mom flew to Nova Scotia and broke the news. It cleared her conscience and invigorated his. He sent letters, and Christmas salutations, all of which I ignored in my "push everyone away" wanna-be writer way. I was going to be damaged and truthfully, my story had been fairly perfected. I'd told it 1000 times. A new character would change everything!
  I'm so glad that I changed my mind. Granted it took a few years of growth on my part, and the kids helped, but I did. We wrote letters at first. Facebooked each other pictures. Within the year, James told me that he was passing through Toronto and wanted to get together. So we organized a dinner, and before I knew it I was on my way to the GO Train to meet the Bio-Dad. As I pulled up, I snickered that I was looking for a 58 yr old version of me. And there he was. Big goofy joker smile, only balder, and darker than me. I've spent most of my life not looking like anyone, so this was a little creepy. When he spoke, this deep voice boomed out that sounded like mine. I was freaking me out!! The people at the Tim Hortons knew we were related, I mean how crazy is that!
 We had dinner, and talked each others ears off. He recollected the bad times, the good, even how he had no idea who Bio-Mom was. He said, "it was a crazy time. I was 19. There were some nights I don't remember" I hear that! Every time the phone rings I fear the same you're my Dad conversation, but it's usually collection agencies. He spent the night with the wife and kids, we had breakfast the next day. Before he left for the home and family he missed so much, we spent one more night reveling in the twists and turns each of our lives had taken. And how wonderful it was that they had intersected. I learned that I had two half sisters, one a year older the other 27 year younger. He saw what became of a drunken night, and I had saw what had become of a man that struggled to find himself, but ultimately did.
  Maybe I'll be able to look back and say that all three "fathers" gave me something that I can use to contribute to my life. That in some way they were actually, in a weird way, what I needed to become a whole man. I can only watch my own kids and hope that I've absorbed the lessons properly, and applied myself appropriately. Only time will tell.

  Last night, January 27th 2011, James Mc Namara passed away. He fought hard and heroically against colon cancer but consequently lost. A man that literally wanted to fix every part of his life he felt he influenced negatively.Even when he hadn't. I had to explain to him that all of the darkness and despair in my life had nothing to do with him. That I never felt  resentment towards him in any way. Those shitty parts of my life were not his concern, nor his responsibility. Without his persistence I would not have been able to have told him that. He sensed the clock running down on his life and wanted to answer any questions. Not for him....but for us. It's selflessness in way we could all learn from. Of all the concerns he ever had, I hope that he saw the kind of unbelievable monarch that he was for his community, his church, his wife, and most important his youngest daughter. She got to see the true angel that maybe the rest of us were just learning about. She got the shortest glimpse, but easily the most poignant. Seeing so many of my scattered brothers and sisters with broken homes, and questionable father-figures, it's nice to know that she has the memory of truly great man.

"I've come to far to turn back now,just walk and and don't look back.Ya heard me....."James McNamara
June 22, 1952 - January 27, 2011