DNA Don’t Lie (El Niño, El Niño)*

I saw my father for the first time since I was 2 years old on my recent trip to Florida.

When I saw him there was no doubt about how our DNA connection.

iStock photo

I was formed by him despite not being informed by him (like I would have if he’d been part of my life previously).

He is everything  (or at least half) of who I am and nothing that I am at the same time.

His nickname is Niño and, like he had a few years back,  he agreed to see me. This time it actually happened.    I wrote a post on this blog in 2007, Lacking a Father’s Love, that rants about him and talks about my disappointment in not meeting him, so I won’t re-rant here.

Surprisingly, I didn’t feel a need to rant when I saw him.  I decided I wanted to meet him and see him for myself.  I was going to be near his home. There was a shock of recognition when I saw him.  “That’s him,” I thought.  “That’s my father.”  I was calm as our conversation skimmed the surface of everyday banter. I watched as he charmed the waitress.  He is a charmer, highly opinionated, and has a striking physical presence.

We look alike.
We talk alike.
We’ve got a nose and big feet alike.
(What a crazy pair. Nah, really, we’re not like the twins played by Patty Duke on the old Patty Duke Show.)

There’s really not much more to say.  I didn’t get to hear him play the piano – he’s a jazz pianist.  I didn’t get answers to previously asked questions – but I didn’t ask any either.

What would be the point at this point in my life?

He is my father, my seed, half of who I am and nothing to who I am.

I understand how he charmed my mother.  I appreciate that in many ways my sister and I dodged a bullet (or two or three) by not being raised by him.  I also understand that we missed some additional things (like the opportunities his financial contribution to our upbringing would have provided) and the impetus, from his example, to continue our piano lessons.

Oh, well…

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*This title comes from the line in a song sung by Shakira in which she sings “hips don’t lie” and Wyclef Jean says in the background, “Shakira, Shakira.”