I am home. Part II

After leaving Las Vegas, and then passing through Utah, I ended my drive in one of my old home towns. In particular, the town where I was a foster child for many years. It was a good foster home, excellent to be honest. I had called my foster mother before leaving on the trip, several weeks before leaving, but I had not called since. With my hopes of off-roading unmet and the improbability of meeting with my new lady friend in Utah having proven to be non-functional, this was my next logical place to be. I drove here, then stayed in a hotel overnight, having arrived so late. I placed the call to my mother while parked at the intersection of the highway that had brought me here and the street she lived on.

Happily, she was home and was quite pleased to hear from me. When she finally understood that I was just down the street, she gave me her address and invited me over. She gave me the wrong address, I was sure. But I checked it out anyway. It was were we had lived when I was her foster child. She is 82 or so, and I am sure I brought back memories from that time, so I fully understood. I thought I remembered where she had moved, and I was correct. I knocked on her door and it was a fine reunion. I spent several days here, asking many questions, sharing meals, and just enjoying our time together. She had other affairs to attend, so in the interims allotted by that I drove around town looking at the schools I had once attended, the places I remembered, while also looking for clues as to former classmates and friends.

I found little success, yet mother was busy with her own re-introductions. We went to church and I met some of the older church members, some I remembered by face, though a few names were at least recognizable. As well, she set about an invitation for breakfast with the mother of one of my good friends, and a lunch with my oldest foster brother and his family. The lunch went well, and I was able to speak for some great time with both my foster brother and his son. His son had been only a boy, now grown and a doctor. As I have learned, both of my foster brothers children are now doctors, family care both. I had not known his wife well, they married after his first wife died which was after I had moved away. So, it was pleasant to meet her. A fine meal, really good indeed, was served. The following morning, we ate breakfast with my friend’s mother. She brought over a yearbook from my graduating class and began to fill me in. She has maintained an incredible amount of information regarding my class mates and I was amazed and happy to hear all that she knew. Her son, my friend, lived in a town nearby, but when asked if she should set up a meeting, I at first indicated a no as I believed he lived far out of the way. Later, as I was preparing to leave, I looked over the map. Gladly, I realized I would be driving right through the town where not only he lived, but were my high school sweetheart also lived and worked! On the road, again, but with plans to at least see my old friend.

Arriving in this new town, near where my girlfriend from the past worked, my friend and I talked just a bit. We decided to go get a bite to eat. I did not want to check on my gal pal, as I just thought the mix of work, surprise, and already opening this new line to the past all combined was a bit much. So, we headed to a place, which happened to be closed. There was a secondary place nearby, so we walked to it. While discussing the past, present, and future, all bets against it, in walks my old girlfriend with some guy. They are seated outside of our view. I hurry my meal a bit, and he chides me to go over. I will get there, I assure him, though I think he thinks I was going to chicken out. I broke up with her, in large part because she wanted marriage and I wanted sex, and the two would not be crossed back in the day, so I was a bit nervous. I did, finally, wander over. Her and the man she was eating and speaking with seemed to be in a cold scene, with little pleasantness occurring. Still, I walked up and asked if she recognized me. By the way, she looks good, like she had not aged a day, though with an added cup size or two (woot!). She did not recognize me, perhaps not even my friend except vaguely seeing him as someone she sort of remembered or knew. I introduced myself. Her eyes lit up and, it seemed to me, she smiled with her whole being. We shook hands, sort of, and she introduced the man she was with as her ex-husband. Recently ex, to be sure and from what I had already heard. We shared a few moments, and smiles, but it was not exactly the time to start necking or something, so we excused ourselves and hurried on out, having finished and paid for our meal (thanks, friend, and I do use the term ‘friend’ lightly) (inside yearbook joke).

In any case, a gal pal of my friend had asked for some help and my friend asked if I would help. Sure, so we went over and helped. There was not a great deal to do, but it was fun. We had a few beers, talked, and just shared some good company. He is the city attorney and she does something with welfare or child custody, but are really just work friends. His girlfriend kept calling, and after about the third time, he just started ignoring her calls. His girlfriend is also an attorney, it seems, but neurosis can strike anywhere, if you ask me. *laughs* It had become quite late, so my friend invited me to crash at his place. That worked well, so I stayed over. We stayed up late talking and laughing, catching up where one of us knew something and just comparing ideas. The next morning, he had to be to work so he let me know what food was available and gave me his contact information and then headed out. I took a shower, relaxed in front of the tube for a show as I am a bit road weary at this point, then I took off. About two hours into my trip, he called and asked if I would be around for a few more hours. I had to, sadly, decline. The road had claimed me and backtracking would have eaten at least an hour of those two hours as well.

On to Wyoming, to by birth mother’s home I traveled. It turns out that it was a good thing I had not stayed longer with my friend. I did remember where my mother lived and worked. Having had difficulty contacting this mother, I worried that she might not still be living there. So, I went to her work first, and asked about her. When I mentioned her name, they asked if I meant so-and-so. I was not sure, but thought it could be, especially after they told me she retired (it seemed to be the right age). Plus, when we agreed about where she lived (or had lived), it all came together. On to her home I went. She was there and seemed happy to see me. She gave me a hug and invited me in. As I entered, I noted that her bags were packed for something. It seems she was getting ready to go somewhere as her oldest official son was to be married this fall, and there was some sort of mutual family gathering. We spent an hour or so talking and catching up. She, it seems, never moved or changed her phone nor did she de-list her number. I was looking for her using her maiden name, my bad. She is getting older and life is more difficult for her, but she still seems well enough. I also found out the other Jeff, my other half brother, committed suicide. She seemed to disbelieve this as much as she is unsure whether I am her son. I suggested, since she is no longer working and lives in the county of my birth, that with her and me both willing to sign things, she could do a more exhaustive search of the paperwork. Barring that, we could also do a maternity genetic test. I need to find out how much that would cost. For my part, I am sure she is my mother. I also asked what she thought of me taking, legally, my birth father’s last name as my own. She is torn on that issue, but I will or will not do so on my own. I just thought I would run that by her. After an hour, I could see that it was about time for her ride to show up. So, I asked for her information and promised to keep better contact and, after a few more hugs, I headed out the door.

Though it was getting later, I decided to press on and see how far I could get toward the home of my last mother, my adoptive mother. I ended up actually driving 18, on top of the two hours looking up and then talking with my birth mother. I had meant to shut down if I could find a place to stay, but the first three towns with places to stay were either full, closed, or simply had full parking lots. Sheldon, Iowa was where I was able to find lodging. At 4:00, I drove in, got a room, and asked them to set an alarm. They offered me a little extra time, setting it for 12:00. However, I know an alarm did not go off, so they let me sleep even more. Leaving at closer to 13:00, after having awaken fearfully at 12:45 and rushed to shower, dress, and head out, the register lady was quite pleasant and relaxed about my lateness.

Thankfully, it would be a short drive to my mother’s home, wherever that might be at this point. She had, a week prior to my trip and throughout my trip, been telling me very troubling things. She had indicated that she had sold her house, and that she was going to give my brother and myself some of the proceeds, then use the remaining amount to buy a place. Then she indicated that she was going to use all of it on a new place, but it did not make sense as the “new place” actually only cost a quarter of what she was selling her home. Then, she indicated that it was all done. She was drinking every time I talked to her, as well. I was terrified that she had sold her old house, purchased poorly, then had gambled the rest away! She is impossible to talk to when she has been drinking, so I never pursued that while I was on the road. A quick call and I learned that all might not be lost. She, at least for the moment, was still at her main old home, and she asked me to stop there, and stay there while home.

I showed up and she was there. Fit as a fiddle, messing around on her computer, and very sober. As it turns out, I am glad I just let things go until I could talk to her, face to face. Not only has she not sold her place (yet), she has not bought into the place she was thinking of buying into, and she has actually made alternative plans. I think she realized her drinking had become a bit of a problem as well, as her new plans included getting away from that scene (and moving to a town where she does not like the bar!). She used to drink much, but had been doing far better that last 3 years for sure, and more like 10 to 15 years. During this sobriety, we had become very close. And, whether she knew it or not, if her drinking was to pick up, I would have been done with her except to call (if she was sober) to see about her. In any case, one huge worry gone.

We spent a few days talking, I learned of her plans, and I heard about my “brother’s” call and her response. I certainly support much of what she is doing or trying to do. I see she has made some good choices, and I think her plans will work out well. I am a bit peeved about the inheritance, but I will get over that if it does not pan out. It is not so much the money as being told with surety that money is on the way and planning around it only to have it disappear. Still, if she really needs the wad, good for her. She is my mother, not my banker. I do worry about her though, drinking is a serious problem, time is passing, and options close that may never be available again. For this, I pray.

After my time there, I returned home. That was the shortest drive of the trip, and gladly so. I had to put bedding back on my bed, unpack for the most part, begin laundry, and set up an appointment with an academic adviser. I have a remaining bill to pay, which I think I will send out this evening even though it will not go out until tomorrow, and many other things crowding in and vying for my time, energy, and money. But, it is very good to be home in spite of it being a miraculous trip.