It HURTS!

In 1961, before I reached the age of two, my parents were divorced. I had no memories of my dad, other than the pictures that I've seen. Maybe it was just the natural desire to have a father and someone who loved me. Or, it may have been the feelings of a middle child, that never felt loved, yet it was obvious that Michael (the oldest and only boy) was the twinkle in my mom's eyes. And, that Jill, the baby, and poor thing never had a father, was obviously not only my mom's favorite, but my Granny's, too. Or, maybe it was the fact that my mother had a boyfriend, that I did NOT like, or, for whatever reason, I constantly talked about finding him, even though my mom had no trouble telling us what an awful man he was. Well, it took me 21 years, but thanks to a Primary lesson on Family History, I decided the time had come to find my dad. I knew he was born in Charleston, West Virginia, and that he had several siblings, so that's where my search began. I went to the Mesa Library and looked for names in the Charleston phone book. First, looking for Donal (his name) or Oscar (his dad's name), then names and initials of the few sibling names I knew. My dad had a brother named Clair, so after 12 other calls to potential relatives, when I saw "C. Lanham" I called the number, which actually belonged Charles Lanham, a distant relative, who knew Juanita Epling, my dad's sister. He said he would pass on my information that I shared with him... And, he DID! It ended up that Juanita (aka Pebble) contacted my dad, in Cocoa, Florida, and a week later, when I answered the phone, the man on the other end said, "Robin, this is your daddy." I was ecstatic! That was in April 1983. In September 1984 I flew to Florida to meet him, for the first time! I should note here, that when I met my dad it was very obvious that I looked just like him. This made me wonder if this was the reason why I was not my mom's favorite... I reminded her too much of him! Naturally, I was full of questions, wondering why he never tried to contact us, and not surprisingly, his story was NOT the same as my mom's. As much as she always blamed him, he said the final split came when he went to West Virginia to find a home for us, and when he returned to Michigan, to get us, my grandmother had talked my mother out of moving away from Michigan. Obviously, I was too young at the time to know the truth of what happened, but I was happy, now, knowing that I had found him. He came to Mesa once, when Gary and I were engaged... I felt so blessed to have two men in my life who loved me! We stayed in contact over the years, by way of letters and phone calls. Then, 1998 he came to Eagar, to see me again. He was not feeling well at this time, and when he returned to West Virginia he was diagnosed with lung cancer. When I got a phone call (in February 2000) from my 1/2 sister, Vanessa, she said he was getting worse, and if I wanted to see him alive I should visit now... So, I did. And, fortunately I was able to visit him, again, in June 2000, when I went to Michigan, for a family reunion (I rented a car, and drove there). Two weeks later, he died. Now, fast forward to this past week (April 2013). After doing Family History (again) I was anxious to see pictures of my dad, and his family, and Vanessa (and her mom) sent me several pictures, including one of my dad, at 12, and another of his mother; my grandmother. This was exciting for me, and I shared the pictures with my mom... That was a MISTAKE! My mom responded by saying, "In the words of your g-ma Veryser, 'You are true Lanhams.'" I was okay with this, until she followed that by asking, "Did your dad like you better when you met him? He didn't like you & Linda when you were little." TALK ABOUT A STAB IN THE HEART! When I asked her, "Why?" she responded with, "He said you annoyed him... You didn't have to make noise, you were just in his space." WHY WOULD SHE SAY THIS TO ME?!? Seriously, I've always felt unloved by her, and now to say that he didn't love me, either, when he's dead, and I can't even contest it! Growing up, my mom did not show love to me. From the time I was 8, I can only recall two times that she even hugged me... when she dropped me off at Central Michigan, and the day I married Gary. She was "in love" with Dave, who was a mean drunk, who beat me with the buckle end of a belt, and left welts on my back. The man she wanted to "go out for the night with," so she left us at the creepy Smith house, where I didn't sleep a wink all night, waiting for her to come back. The man that I swore, one day, if he hit me again I would position myself to get a sharp knife and defend myself. This woman who told me (when I asked) if I had a baby, she would not come to visit. Who later told me (when I was suffering depression about being infertile), "If I didn't have anything good to tell her not to call." And, I didn't... For years! This same woman that told me we moved out of my Granny's house, because she was always comparing me to Katie (my cousin). I found the ability to forgive my dad, well, for not being a dad. But, can I forgive this woman that did little, but complain about how hard her life was, raising four children alone... Was it harder than it should've been because she only loved 1/2 of her children?