After the initial, and brief, conversation with my dad over the phone I stayed in good contact with his workers over the next several weeks. I was able to help direct and coordinate where and who they needed to speak with for my dad’s medical records here in Minnesota. I was able to help them navigate and translate a state’s mental health system with which they were not familiar.

By the way – do you have any idea how easy it is to obtain a birth certificate?? I walked to the Licensing Center, requested a copy (and I can because I’m his daughter), paid the fee, and WALKED OUT with a notarized copy of his birth certificate in about a half hour. I was able to mail this out to California where his workers were actually able to help him obtain a State ID. He had been in that state for YEARS and never had a state ID.

A few more weeks had gone by and they informed me that an actual case worker had been assigned to work with my dad. A long-term case worker. GREAT news. And in this instance, A COMPLETE SAINT. I’ll call her Amy.

Amy is amazing.

I’ve heard from Amy nearly every week for the last year.

She gives me updates.

She always gives my dad the opportunity to speak with me. Sometimes he does, and sometimes he doesn’t. But that’s absolutely OK.

Our conversations never last more than a minute or two. But that’s also absolutely OK.

I often wonder, as I’ve progressed through this last year, what in the world I’m doing.

In all seriousness – What in the hell am I doing?

Am I doing this for me?

Is this healthy? Am I maintaining good boundaries?

Should I be doing anything more for him? (Absolutely not is my answer if you’re wondering)

***
February, 2019

I had been thinking about seeing my dad for a few months now at this point.

I woke up one morning and realized I was finally ready. I’m not sure what was so special about that particular morning but I woke up knowing I was strong enough, and had come to terms enough, with all of the emotions I had experienced in the last year.

This was the first time, I could confidently say, that I was ready to see him. I wanted to see him.

No, I needed to see him.

I approached my husband on this particular mid-February morning.

“Please hear me out. And please don’t tell me I’m being unrealistic but I want to go see my dad.”

And his response? “Well then let’s go.”

***
April 10th, 2019

My husband and I boarded a plane to California. It was the first time on the west coast for both of us.

When I decided to go visit my dad, and had actually already purchased our flights, I called Amy. I explained to her that we would be coming out to visit and she was incredibly supportive. We both knew it was best to let my dad know so he could better prepare himself. Neither of us thought a surprise would be a good idea so she put me on the phone with him during their next visit. I told him the big news and he seemed, genuinely, happy. Weekly reminders were given to him and a few days before we arrived he actually asked Amy to make sure I was still coming.

He actually remembered. We had prepared him for this. And he was in a good place, mentally.

We landed late on a Wednesday evening so I TRIED to sleep that night before meeting up with him the next day.

Thursday morning we head out in the rental car to drive the 20 minutes to where my dad stays. We were ridiculously early so I swung by the Mystery Town’s Sheriff’s Dept to see if Detective Smith was around. I was actually able to meet him in person and thanked him for all of the time they’ve spent helping my dad.

Finally the time comes. Amy messaged me that she had some time to meet us with my dad and to show me exactly where he stays. She let me know that she was standing with him and that he was doing pretty well.

After what felt like forever (but it was really only a few minutes) we pull up to the area. The space my dad sleeps every night. The space where he keeps all of his worldly belongings.

I don’t even really remember getting out of the car but I do remember moving as fast as my little legs would take me.

And there he was. Standing there. In front of me. This man I hadn’t laid eyes on in over 10 years. This man who I thought was deceased and who I thought I would never be able to talk to again. This man from my childhood I thought I had lost. This shell of a man I barely recognized who has slowly eroded away after having to battle his own inner demons for far longer than anyone should..

And here I was – about to pull him into an embrace that I never thought I would have been able to experience again.

I kept telling myself as I was preparing for this trip that I would be happy if he recognized me. I had ZERO expectations going into this and I would’ve been OK if he didn’t recognize me. It would’ve hurt for a while, yes. But being able to see him – I felt like that would’ve been enough. It would’ve been the closure I needed. I think.

But he recognized me.

He even smiled.

And he even hugged me back, a little.

I was doing my best to keep my emotions in check, but honestly, I was having a hard time even getting any words out. I could tell he was having the same struggle. So I told him to take me for a walk to his favorite place on the beach.

It was only about 2 blocks away so it didn’t take long to get there. But in those short two blocks we passed several people. Several high functioning adults who were all, presumably, residents of Mystery Town. And they ALL greeted my dad. By name.

They didn’t ignore him. They didn’t stare at him. They respected him enough to acknowledge him and recognize him as so much more than a, “homeless guy”. They recognized him as a human being and it was a beautiful thing.

And you know what else was beautiful? The ocean.

It was no surprise that this was where my dad chose to stay.

We ended up staying in this spot and had the longest conversation we’ve had in over 10 years. He told me how he had taken a bus out there to visit but ended up loving it so much that he stayed. I asked him a bunch of questions about where he had been and what he had been up to. Most of the answers he gave were far from logical, however, and that was was really tough.

I had so many questions but I knew I wasn’t going to get as many answers. I firmly believe he wouldn’t have known them anyway.

After we talked for a while I offered to take him out to lunch but he said he wasn’t feeling very well and didn’t have much of an appetite. He was thirsty though so we walked to the 7/11 across from where he stays.

It was inside of this 7/11 that I finally figured out why I was down there. I finally recognized what exactly it was that I was needing to get out of this trip.

***

My dad ended up walking in the store ahead of me and proceeded straight back to the soda coolers. He was happily greeted by the store owner behind the counter.

Out of the corner of my eye I started noticing him tapping his pockets. Feverishly. As if he was hoping to find something in one of them, any of them, to afford what he was about to pick out.

Watching this take place from a few feet away completely broke my heart..and it hurt my soul. Physically hurt my soul. Just thinking about the entirety of the situation; here I am inside of a 7/11 in the middle of a tiny town in California and I’m watching my dad desperately looking for change in order to purchase a $.99 bottle of Sprite.

It was in this very moment that I realized I hadn’t once thought about how he feels. I hadn’t even thought about his perspective in all of this.

How must it feel to have your daughter reach out to you after so many years knowing you abandoned her?

How must it feel to have your daughter see you in this type of situation..in this type of lifestyle?

How must it feel to have your daughter watch you struggle to buy yourself a soda?

I came up next to him, gently held his elbow, and told him to pick out whatever he wanted and we would take care of the bill. So he picked out a Sprite for his stomach and, upon my encouragement, a Coke for later.

We walked up to the counter and started making conversation with the owner and he proceeded to ask my dad, “So hey man..who do you have with you here today??”

I glance over and see my dad really struggling. He’s pacing. He’s not even present. I doubt he even heard the guy ask him a question.

I responded, “Ohh well..I’m his daughter and I’m here visiting from Minnesota”

“Oh wow! Really?? I didn’t even know he had a daughter! How amazing that you’ve come this far to see him!”

And here is where it gets deep.

The man reaches out and grabs my hand.

“You coming all of the way out here is pretty special. I’m glad you came. I see him everyday and I can tell you he is the nicest person I’ve met around here. He never begs for anything. He doesn’t cause any problems for anyone. He just keeps to himself and lives his life. As you can see he eats very well because everyone around here makes sure he’s fed. We all really enjoy having him around here. I hope you don’t worry about him..he’s happy here.”

Holding back the tears, and my impending breakdown, I walked my dad back to his spot and was getting ready to say goodbye. At this point I wasn’t sure if I would come back and see him again. I wasn’t sure if he even wanted to see me again. I could tell that my presence was causing him a great deal of anxiety.

Nevertheless, I grabbed him..and I hugged him tight.

And then he asked me if I could come back and see him one more time before I left.

And without hesitation, I agreed.

I barely made it back to the car before I lost it. I lost everything I had been holding emotionally. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I didn’t know what to say, how to feel, how to act. I felt completely paralyzed and buried in my own emotions.

My husband drove us down to the beach. My happy place. The place where the ocean breeze and salty air calms my soul. I walked down a long stretch of rocks that lead out into the ocean. I sat down. And I cried. I ugly cried. I don’t even know how long I sat out there but it felt like forever.

We came back the next day. I came back to say goodbye not knowing if that would be the last time I was able to see him. I took a picture with him before I left that I will forever hold in my heart. After one last hug I said goodbye and left Mystery Town, CA.

***

I’ve spoken to him a few times since I left and it feels as if his mind is becoming more and more clear. Or maybe it’s because he’s getting more comfortable talking with me. Or maybe it’s because he’s finally taking his medications. Or maybe it’s because he’s finally not using.

Whatever the reason – I have zero expectations and I’m OK with that.

A couple of years ago I coincidentally came across an old news article in my baby book. I had never seen it before because it was folded up and hidden deep in one of the pockets. The local newspaper had interviewed him when he was 15 years old regarding a childhood illness he had been battling. The very last piece of this article reads:

“After school I think I’ll move up to the mountains. Society’s gone to hell, with people hating each other because of their differences. They don’t like you because of who you are..In the mountains you live day by day. It seems like there’s a lot more freedom up there.”

Well he didn’t move to the mountains but he chose some place just as beautiful.

And now he’s living life the way he’s always wanted. On his terms. He knew this at the age of 15. And who can be mad at that?

Yeah, of course, what about me? I can be mad, right?

I mean, he has a daughter. He abandoned me.

Sure he did. And there’s nothing either of us can do to change that now but I refuse to carry this negative BS with me any longer.

I forgive him.

For myself, I forgive him.

Going forward it’s solely my responsibility to make sure I’m maintaining healthy boundaries and protecting my own energy.

He knows that I will always support him in maintaining a healthy lifestyle.

And now I’m certain he knows how much love I have for him.

He has his very own tribe out there in CA. He has people out there who support him..and respect him..and who are genuinely concerned about his well-being.

At the end of the day I’m thankful to have taken the risks I have over the last year. And now I realize this “Journey to Him” hardly had anything to do with finding him at all..but it had everything to do with me finding myself.