I had debated writing too much about this weekend because it could offend some people but then I realized that what happened did happen to me and I have a right to share it or not. I met my birthfather for the first time just before the wedding. I had some preconceived notions of him thanks to my outspoken sister Rachel, and they were all pretty much true. He's a nice enough guy but very much interested in himself and would in fact like some salsa for that gigantic chip on his shoulder. After about 20 minutes, everyone he talked about (including my birth grandfather, Tom, who is a wonderful guy in my book) is as asshole and no less than 5 people he mentioned consider him a loser. His whole life story, it seemed from what I heard, was a meandering tale of people thinking he was a loser or screwing him over, then him writing them out of his life (mother, brother, friends, wife, the list was long). Maybe they are all assholes, who knows?

It seemed weird that after 30 years of never meeting me, he asked me hardly any questions about me. I did learn that he was in the middle school band (all state) and had challenged to be 1st chair, just to win then decline the chair so he could stick it to the girl who was first.

We went on to the wedding and I sat with him and his wife since they were the only people I knew, outside of my sister the bride. Birthfather's best friend showed up, he hadn't mentioned a word about me to this poor guy, until he sat down, when bfather said "This is my daughter, Liz." Classy. The service was lovely, they even had bagpipes! Rachel looked absolutely amazing, stunning and beautiful. I was proud to know her. There I also saw my 1/2 brother and sister for the first time. I grew so nervous seeing them that I almost passed out twice. It wasn't until after the service and after Rachel and her new hubby Don (a wonderful guy) greeted me that I started to learn just how much my birthfather is hated in that circle. I went down the receiving line and said simply "I'm Liz" to each person, brother and sister included. Bfather felt the need to tell my brother (who seemed overwhelmed by the whole experience to begin with) "THIS IS YOUR SISTER! SHE'S FROM CALIFORNIA" as brother stood there stunned to see bfather (who hasn't been around the kids for 6 years) let alone meet me. When I got to Rachel's mom, I said the same. She realized who I was and turned away with a scowl. In that moment, I was so hurt, so mad, and finally understood what it means to be hated for something well beyond your control. After that fine moment, we stood at the left side of the steps waiting for Rachel and Don to emerge and watched as the entire crowd went to the right, leaving just us on the left. Bfather went around talking to these people as if he was returning royalty, then returning to me and his wife to say that they're all assholes. I did my best not to cry but did eventually lose it as we waited for Rachel to arrive.

That was hard, first I'm not a crier, certainly not in public, and the last person I wanted to be weak in front of was bfather. He felt like he had to comfort me and hugged me way more than I would have wanted, especially in front of all those people. At that point, I had no desire to go to the reception and wanted only to drive home to Columbus and see my mom. As soon as Rachel and Don made their grand entrance, I couldn't get away from bfather soon enough. He walked me to my car, talking about the shit town Rachel's mom had made him move to and how they're all assholes. I left him with yet another hug that I didn't want as the smell of his cologne got all over my outfit, a lingering reminder of something I was all ready to forget. I drove to the reception, fully intending to just drop off my gift and head out of there. When I arrived, the doors were locked and these Nice People were outside, frustrated that they couldn't get in. I ended up blurting out my fresh trauma and crying into this woman's arms (she gave me a spontaneous hug that I did welcome). She is a friend of Rachels' from the Civil Air Patrol and told me not to leave, that I would sit with them and she'd take care of it. It was a gift from God that they were there when I needed a friendly face the most. I ended up hanging out with them and other CAP folks and having an okay time while avoiding Rachel's mom. I saw my other sister on the way out but didn't have any emotional energy left to do more than smile as I left.

When I got back yesterday morning, I was utterly exhuasted. My maroon tryouts were at 4:15 but I had a sinking feeling that I just wasn't physically or emotionally up for the stress of it. I went anyway with my stuff but as soon as we walked in the door I knew I shouldn't even try. I talked to the coordinator and wound up going to help set the level for the green folks trying out for Red. I had a great ego boost as I zoomed around a nice chunk of Green skaters trying for Red. My guess is there won't be a lot of folks moving up from Green or Red this season.