In ancient myths, she said-in stories from cultures as far-flung as the Eskimos and the ancient Greeks-orphaned sons leave home in search of their fathers. In search of the self-truths that will allow them to return home restored, completed. “In these stories, knowledge eludes the lost child,” she said. “And fate throws trial and tribulation onto his path-hurls at him conundrums he must solve, hardships he must conquer. But if the orphan endures, then finally, at long last, he stumbles from the wilderness into the light, holding the precious elixir of truth. And we rejoice! At last, he has earned his parentage, his place in the world. And for his trouble, he has gained understanding and peace. Has earned his father’s kingdom, if you will. The universe is his!”
“And everyone lives happily ever after,” I said.
“Sometimes,” she said. “Sometimes not. I mention it because it is one way to interpret the recent turn of events”: perhaps in order to find your father, you had to earn the right to him.”
I Know This Much Is True
by Wally Lamb
The loss of a successful reunion experience has caused immeasurable sadness and pain for me, but out of the ashes of the destruction, rising like the Phoenix, has evolved a strength of character that never would have been fully developed otherwise.
After reading the above I pondered the possibility that the key to finding my father(s) may very well lie within the confines of my experiences. I feel like I have earned the right to my father(s), earned the right to claim my own self-truths.
I have two fathers. One who is who he is- and I am working to forgive all that he is not and another who’s story may be in a sense fictional but the essence of “father” is there none the less.
I claim them both.