Speechless
I’m not often at a loss for words, but something happened to me yesterday that totally blew my mind. A loved
one that I thought I’d lost forever a long time ago suddenly popped back into my life. My reaction was
Oh...My...God !!!
The story behind this event goes back to the year 1961, when I was a very young (23), very foolish, and very irresponsible youngster. In that year I married a woman named Kathy, and a year later we had a daughter named Donna.
Then in 1966, as some of my friends had predicted, Kathy and I broke up, primarily because I’d been incapable of really loving a woman. At that stage of my life I had yet to have the experience of being properly loved, And I’d had no role model as a child from whom I could learn what love is really about.
The terms of our divorce allowed me unlimited visitation with Donna, “at all reasonable times and places”, so it came as a big surprise when I found it impossible to see my daughter. Her mother simply wouldn’t allow it. By 1967 I was living and working on the East coast and driving 500 miles to Cincinnati as often as I could in hopes of seeing Donna. If I arrived unannounced her mother told me I couldn’t see her because it was “unreasonable” to do so without letting her know I was coming. On the other hand, if I wrote to tell her when I’d be coming, the house would be locked up and dark when I arrived.
When I figured Donna was old enough to be reading, I started writing to her, but the letters always came back to me unopened. I doubt Donna ever saw them.
When I heard Donna was visiting her grandmother, I showed up there and asked to see her; but two of Kathy’s brothers offered to beat me up if I didn’t leave.
In the years that followed, I got to see Donna exactly twice. The first time was when she was 18. A friend of mine told me she was working as a receptionist at a country club. So I showed up there unannounced and introduced myself. By this time I was living in Oregon, so the trip getting there was considerably longer. She was visibly terrified when I told her who I was, and she wouldn’t talk to me or arrange a subsequent visit.
I don’t recall the exact year I saw her the last time, but we actually had dinner together at an Italian restaurant. It must have been around 1990. I wanted to talk with her about how hurt she must have been by my disappearance from her life, but she wouldn’t discuss it, preferring to pretend she forgave me and there was nothing to discuss. I told her of my failed attempts to stay in touch, but I don’t think she believed me. Her manner toward me was polite but distant – distrustful at best. We talked on the phone a number of times after that, but I don’t think she wanted me in her life. She never called me and showed no enthusiasm for our conversations.
The years passed and nothing changed. Donna married and had a daughter herself – Erin. Erin grew up and went to college. Still hoping for a better outcome, I was excited when Donna told me she would invite me to Erin’s college graduation – but the invitation never materialized. I managed to reach Erin on the phone, and she explained that she didn’t want me at her graduation because of the way I’d hurt her mother.
It was at exactly this point that I gave up connecting with Donna at the emotional level. How could such a connection occur if she wouldn’t even admit to me the pain she shared with Erin? This was in 2011 – 6 years ago as of this writing. I told her the ball was in her court. I wasn’t going to keep reaching out. She hadn’t been candid with me the past 45 years – how could I sustain any hope that something would change? Six years passed. I had no word from her. Then a couple of weeks ago I tried calling her, only to learn that her phone had been disconnected. For all I knew she might me dead. And I had no one to call to learn more. __________________
Yesterday was the “bomb”. I’m on Facebook checking in with my friends when suddenly a message arrives:
“Hi Dad, it’s me.”
When I saw Donna’s name, I literally burst into tears. OMG! She hasn’t addressed me as “Dad” since she was 3. We spent the next two hours chatting back and forth with meaningful updates about our lives and parted by exchanging affectionate “stickers”. Tomorrow we plan to talk again.
It’s a sad but common tale: the bad husband described by the injured wife as an uncaring father – causing a long-time rift between father and child. So sad. So common. But for me it seems there could be a happy ending, as Donna and I begin to talk the “Big Talk” - the cure for “small talk” - in which truth replaces fiction and the really important events of our lives finally get the airtime they deserve.
Wish me well, Friends.
Bob Podolsky
