|Posted by: Paulette|
|Mom, Jvona, and I about 1977 I'm on the left|
When I was four years old, my Mom divorced my biological father, who was a drug addict, and left with two little girls to begin a new life. It was the best decision she could have made. I grew up with her second husband, Mike, and I came to know him as Daddy. Dad was strict and punishments came with that. He is also a really hard working guy. As I was growing up, Dad worked two, sometimes three jobs to support his family. We weren't wealthy. Dad was enlisted in the US Airforce, and didn't make very much money. I respected Dad, but we didn't have a very close relationship. He was always working, and we were so much alike (something I didn't know until I was a parent) that we didn't get along well with one another. I was blessed with a brother and then another sister.
|Paulette, Jvona, Zach & Rachel about 1985|
When I grew up and moved to New Mexico, I learned that my biological father lived nearby. I was curious about what kind of person he was, and I didn't want to run into him by accident. I found that his father lived in an assisted living facility, and I paid him a visit, and arranged a visit with Paul, my biological father.
We went to lunch together and I met his wife, Kathy. After lunch, Paul said, "you know where I am. I won't be calling you."
I though that this was a really strange way to leave things. And I thought that he didn't care about me and my life.
Fast forward about 15 years. I have been married for almost thirteen years and have five children; ages 11, 9, 7, 4 and 2 years.
I've been wondering about whether or not he really would care that I'm married and that I have 5 kids. Which means that he has 5 grandchildren. About three years ago, I started trying to find him via. the internet. It's like he had dropped off of the face of the earth. The strange thing is that I could find his father who had passed away. I could even visit him if I wanted...in Alpena Michigan. But I couldn't find my own father.
Then a strange thing happened. My sister Jvona, googled hr name and found a genealogy of the Kingsbury family. I'd always felt very disconnected to that family and was even a bit embarrassed to have the last name of a man who was a drug addict. I felt ashamed by the sins of my father. On my wedding day, I was sealed in the temple to my Dad, Mike, and to my new husband, David, on the same day. I felt relieved to be rid of the name. And now years later, I started to feel like I needed to do something about getting to know my history, and the history of the Kingsbury family.
A couple of days ago, I found my uncle in ND. I called his phone number and got an answer. He told me a little about his family and then gave me the address and phone number of Paul. My uncle told me that Paul was a grumpy man living by himself. Now I was really nervous about calling him!