Here’s how the story begins…
What brings a person that no longer exists on this earth, to feel close again?
We try talking about them. Sharing their stories. Looking at photos. Waiting for those signs that show up here and there. Hoping for a dream that feels real. Carrying them on whenever and however we can, always.
So now flash forward 10 years past the point of “losing” one of the closest people in my life. My dad. Half of my heart.
You can imagine feeling like you’ve shared everything you know with everyone that you know, over and over again, and you almost feel like you’ve run out.
So then get this: …this CRAZY thing happens.
I’m re-united with my dad, all over again, in a whole new perspective.
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Here’s a little backstory without getting into too many details, to honor my dad’s privacy, of the story we always knew:
My dad was born in San Juan, Puerto Rico. When he was about 3 years old, his biological mother brought him to NYC where he was adopted into a Portuguese/Puerto Rican family- my mima and papa! Like most children adopted young, my dad loved his adoptive parents, and looked at them no differently than if they were his blood.
The story we always knew was that his father (my biological grandfather) passed away when he was young, and it would have been too much for his mother (my biological grandmother) to take care of by herself. My dad always knew his father’s family wanted him to come back to PR to live with them, but I can only imagine how much easier it was to just avoid this, knowing he was growing up in a loving home already.
The mystery of his biological parents wasn’t something he wanted to research, and my mom and I always respected that. It wasn’t until a year or two after he died (and years after my mima and papa died) that I really started to re-visit the idea of maybe finding out more about his history. After all, that would be my family too.
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2009, 2010, 2011..
I spent little to no time researching my ancestry online for a year or two before I went off to college, but I did do small attempts here and there. It felt out of reach being that I would be researching relatives from Puerto Rico (and maybe Spain, from what we had heard.) Not to mention at this time I had no money to spend on memberships online or private investigators. To me if it was forced, it wasn’t meant to be- just the way my dad had always felt. So I honored that.
What I did have though, was the ultimate golden treasure: his adoption papers, his birth certificate, and his baptism papers. So I always knew my biological grandparents names, and even my biological last name, too.
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Christmas 2018 - January 18th, 2019.
For Christmas Kevin got me a 23andme ancestry test. It was something I had been wanting to do, honestly just to see what comes together to make ME. I honestly didn’t have too many questions when it came to that, because like I said, I did know I was 50% hispanic (Puerto Rican for sure, and a potential of roots from Spain.)
So I sent in my kit mid January and waited anxiously for the results.
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February 2nd, 2019
We officially hit the 10 year milestone of my dad passing away. It was bittersweet, for all the reasons. Disbelief that 10 years had flown by without him. Reflection on all that we had overcome and accomplished in 10 years. Sadness on all the parts of my life that he didn’t get to see in the last 10 years. Celebration, because a solid anniversary like “10” stands for ALL the excuse to celebrate the incredible man my dad was. I waited for some grand sign from him to come, and maybe he showed up in little ways, but the day came and went- and then it was just kicking off another year without him.
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February 10th, 2019
The results are in! I layed in bed early that Sunday morning when I saw the email and it felt like Christmas morning ALL over again. Kevin still asleep beside me, I scrolled through and analyzed every ounce of information they shared.
Then running out of tabs to look through, I notice that I have 1,324 DNA relative connections, and SEVEN close DNA relative connections. What? Maybe I was living under a 23andme rock, but I had no clue that I was going to be connected to DNA relatives, let alone have any of my dad’s long lost relatives.
So I scroll through the common surnames. Rivera, Rodriguez, Reyes, Sanchez, Martinez….. and now my wheels are turning. I’m recognizing last names and questioning myself if I’m just forcing this puzzle piece together.
I start connecting with the close relatives, sending them friend requests and reading their profiles. Before messaging anyone, I decided to make my own profile. “….Seeking information about my dads biological parents, here’s what I know..” And within an hour, I’m in contact with a second cousin.
So here we are. Me and a “stranger” I had just met online, comparing stories. Comparing details and background information. Within 4 exchanges with each other, I received a message that changed my life.
“You are my 2nd cousin and please I can say with all my heart, your father was a very loved child in absentia.”
“…Receive from me a great hug, and feel in your heart that your dad was kept in the heart of this family, but most of all in his father’s heart.”
The next few hours (and days, weeks and months to follow) were followed by TONS of messages, photos, stories and phone calls. It all happened so quickly, on it’s own, just days after celebrating 10 years since my dad left this earth.
I was connected with my second cousin, who, immediately felt like an Aunt to me. I felt welcomed into a family that I never knew existed with open arms and opened up this treasure chest of my biological grandfather’s life and history. I learned that our story of my dad’s biological dad passing away shortly after his birth wasn’t true, and he lived his life until 2002 with the broken heart of missing his son.
As much as my heart ached to find that missing part of my life that I never really knew (especially now, more than ever, missing the connection to my dad) — I soon realized that their families heart’s longed for my DAD for over the past 60 years. Missing him, loving him, wondering how his life turned out.
There’s two sides (or three) to every story, and there’s still so many more questions I’d love to see answered. There are no pointing fingers at blame, or regrets for the life that my father lived- I feel so grateful to have known my mima and papa, the people who raised my dad into the amazing person he was. But instead, it is just pure AWE at how the universe truly delivers when you let it run its own course.
I could have pushed and researched for years trying to find the connection to my biological paternal family, but there’s no magic in that. Instead, here we are, (60 years later for them, 10 years later for me) celebrating what feels like a reunion.
My heart is so full. I can’t wait to officially meet the first blood relatives of my hero.
*UPDATE: since writing this post, and not sharing it publicly, a lot of amazing things have happened..*
In august 2019, Kevin and I flew to San Diego where we met about 20 of my relatives. It was an instant connection, like I had known them forever. I was welcomed into their homes and was embraced the way they wish that they could have with my dad. I met my dad’s FIRST cousin, who babysat him in Puerto Rico before he came to NY… which was INCREDIBLE. A true gift to meet her, to hug her, to hear her stories.
In January 2020, we went BACK to San Diego where I met the rest of my family…. all 70+ of them! We celebrated Dia De Los Reyes and it was as if I had known them my whole life. It was amazing to love and be loved by a family I had only met months ago, I can’t even describe the feeling.