My mom had me at 17 and gave me up. When I found her at 20, she told me to forget about her, claiming her husband would leave her if he knew about me. A year later, her husband showed up at my door, revealing she had lied.
He had overheard her telling her mother I was “dead to her” and, refusing to accept that, hired an investigator to find me. He wanted to meet me—his wife’s first child. Handing me photos of my half-sisters and a large sum of money, he said I was welcome to visit them anytime.
I hugged him, tears streaming, overwhelmed by his kindness. In that moment, he showed me what it feels like to have a father, something I’d never known.
