I noted in my first entry that I’d always felt a bit out of place, and that the traits the majority of my family had, I wasn’t in possession of. Traits like extroversion, a love of outdoor activities with friends, having many, many friends, not reading much, or caring at all for reading.
I am the opposite. I recall standing in the room I shared with Roman at the family’s first house on Laramore Way, looking out the window at Ro horsing around with the Scoggins and Montoya kids. I sighed and said wistfully: “Oh, to be young again.” I was eight for crying out loud.
I was a voracious reader from 5, grabbing books to see what worlds were held between the two covers. Jack and Libby provided me with plenty of material, from Dr. Seuss, to a set of encyclopedias that had a series of books containing stories from many cultures and times. The encyclopedias were also read cover-to-cover, volume to volume until I was in my 20s. I preferred music to watching TV, and became a fan of Dr. Don Rose, the legendary morning DJ on KFRC radio.
Back to the story.
When I first had the idea that Jack wasn’t biodad, there were no genetic testing services available, at least not in the form they are today. I had hunches, but I was thinking in the family, as opposed to a late winter’s indiscretion. I asked Jack one evening if I was his son, and without hesitation he said yes.
Anyway, here’s that story via livejournal.
About twenty years later, in 2021, my sister zaps me a text on FB messenger, saying that there was someone, Elizabeth Decker, looking for me to determine someone’s line of descent. I shrugged and didn’t think much of it until the “what ifs” got the best of me.
I began with 23 & me, but the results were in a vacuum, with no one closer than a second cousin appearing in my relatives group. Still, 69% European, with the majority being from the British Isles, piqued my curiosity enough to go ahead and grab some tests from Ancestry.
I did the usual, waited a bit, and literally on my birthday, my results were emailed to me.
There were no Solorzanos on the paternal side of the tree. The material side looked the way I expected it to, with my mother’s sisters populating the close relative slots, then cousins, but who was this, this person in the close relation side that bore a resemblance to me? I dropped a note into her mailbox and waited. Having no response, I followed up with a note to Tina, and then ordered a test for Suzanne, the sister I grew up with.
While waiting, Suzanne’s test came back: half sister. Good. Confirmed. Jack was pops, but it looks like this mysterious person on Tushi’s tree is my biodad. Suddenly, I yearn to know more of that winter and spring of 1964.
On my Instagram, I posted a picture of Jack holding an infant me, with the statement: I know now. This does not change who I am, or affect my identity in any way. That last statement was for myself as much as anyone, because I see that it’s impossible now for that news not to change you, even in a minor way.
modeleccentric 