So here is the updated letter to My so-called  Dad. I tried my best not to be mean, and I think I did pretty well. And unless I chicken out at the post office in the morning, im sending out. No regrets right???

(I deleted my address from the end of this letter....because...this is the internet, and there are some creepy peeps out there)


Dear Jimmy,
     So, I know that i've never spoken to you, or seen you, but they say your my dad. My biological dad. Its kinda hard not to believe considering I look so much like your daughters. I'm still very confused about things. I feel helpless. I feel like no one can answer the thousands of questions I have. But at the same time, it almost seems like I shouldn't care. I am not a little girl right now. I am completely grown up. Why now? Why would something like this surface only now? Its been 26 years, I went 26 years without knowing a thing about it. Or maybe just ignorant to the fact that it was a possibility. My head is taking me back and forth with this. I cannot make a decision, which is very out of character for me.
     I am 26 years old. I have two beautiful children. Two children, that pretty much define who I am today. My son, Nicholas, is 10 years old. He is bright, and wonderful. He is caring, and very sensitive. He is my heart. My daughter, Ciara, is 3 years old. She is the greatest gift that God could ever have given to me. Of all the bad that has happened to me, I dont resent him for, only because I have her. She is beautiful, and smart. She is full of wonders and amazement. She is me, a spitting image of myself at that age I'm sure.
     I grew up with a pretty good life. It wasn't always the best, but it was mine, and I made it the best. I have 5 brothers and sisters, all of which look nothing like me. My parents never brought things like this up, and I am almost thankful for it. I am so grateful to have my siblings though. They have brought me so much good and bad, that I could never imagine living life without them. They were my best friends growing up. They were there. Even now, they are there for me. So, in a way, it was a blessing that I never knew, and that things ended up this way.
     You wrote a letter to Jen. It frustrates me beyond belief. I read this letter, because of course, sisters share almost anything with one another. Just by reading the letter I learned a few things. Some things I may not have wanted to know, or cared to know. Some things that I feel made no difference. I did get an instinct that you are pretty sick. I know that you are in the hospital, and have been there for some time. I stopped myself from contacting you purposely. I felt as though, if you wanted to find me, or know that I was ok, you would have. Plus, if I waiting until now, when I found this out, it would be out of complete pity. But I then realized, that I don't do pity for people I don't know. So, I've decided to be the grown up, and contact you, and see if you were ok. After all, even though I didn't ask for this, apparently, you are my biological dad. It is what it is.
     I brought this situation up to my mom one morning. When no one else would. My whole life, no one would. It makes me so angry that half of my world knew this, and no one said a word. Anyways, I asked her about you. She basically confirmed it. That was it. I got no explanation. I got no pitiful conversation. I got a whole lot of nothing. So, i'm thinking that getting answers or explanations from her, are pretty much a dead end for me. After that morning when I asked her about it, for all two minutes, I havent heard another word about it. Now it may seem like my mom is completely heartless to not talk to me about this, and in a way, she probably is, but she wasnt the only one with this information. After all, its a normal thing for a mother to keep things from their daughter. Or at least thats what I tell myself to feel better.
     Now that I know, thinking back, I can see signs. I can notice now, in my mind, times when I would look into my dad's eyes and see something. Something that was killing him to keep inside. He still hasn't said a word to me about it. I don't even think that he knows- I know. There are times when I can feel him trying to tell me, but it probably hurts him so bad, that he stops himself. My dad is so great. he works hard, for everyone. For his family. He has done good by me. He has been by me, at times, when it meant the most. I feel guilty. Guilty that I have been almost, maybe a burden on him. Now, I know he doesnt feel this way, but sometimes I think these things. You all made this decision, before I was able to make any decisions for myself. So I try not to blame myself, or feel bad. But its hard to ignore when those kinds of thoughts come to mind.
     So, as you know, from what I am told, I have bone tumors. I have had them for as long as I can remember. I was told that you met with my mom once, to talk about this. Is that true? The doctors have always told me that it was genetic. It was hard to deal with growing up. I have had multiple surgeries on them. I have had surgeries on both wrists, boths legs, and both ribs. Theres probably ten more bones that I need surgery on as of today, that I've decided not to do. The way I see it, I've spent so much time of my younger life dealing with this, that I am just done. What is to come, can come. From what I am told, it is a form of bone cancer, that forms at the joints of my bones. Osteocromatomatosis? When I was younger, it was something that most doctors never even heard of. The bone tumors that I did have surgeries on have came back. They don't really bother me much, but when they do, its horrible. I try not to worry myself over this, but it is something thats always at the back of my mind. I've had both of my children checked for this, and nothing was detected. Is this something that you've heard of in your family? No one in my mothers family have been known to have something like this.
     I had a daughter, Kayla. She was 3 months when she died. The doctors say she died from a congenital heart defect. Basically, she had a hole in her heart, and it bled out into her lungs. She died in her sleep on Easter morning. Some kind of holiday right? It turns out, that one check, one check that isnt mandatory in the state of pennsylvania to perform, wouldve probably picked up on this when she was born. I blamed every possibility on what had happened. I blame my genetics, I blamed myself, I blamed it on karma, I blamed it on the doctors and the hospital. I blamed it on whatever I could to make myself feel better about it. When I found out that my dad wasn't my biological dad, I blamed it on you. I now believe, and know, that no matter who my parents were, or who my family was, or what I did, or what I could've, would've, or should've known, wasnt the cause for this. I went through a lot when this happened. I learned not to put blame upon anything for this. I came to the conclusion, that things happen, with or without reasons, they happen.I know that there was nothing I couldve done to change the outcome of that awful morning. I sometimes may not admit this out loud, but thats solely for the purpose of allowing myself to feel better when I get angry about it. I believe that this changed me. This is still changing me each day. Grief doesnt go away overnight. It doesn't go away after a month, or a year, or even ten years. It stays with you forever. Its how you deal with it, and how you let it effect your life that matters.
     I am catholic. I was baptised as an infant. I don't go to church on a daily basis. I don't believe much in God, or a greater power. I've read the bible, many times, and I find it to be degrading to half of the people that live in this world. Therefore, making it hard for me to believe or even open to the idea. I mention this because I read in your letter that you pray sometimes. I dont pray. I dont talk to God. I find myself sitting in a church once in a while, in the peacefulness and quietness. Its calming, and it helps me catch up on my thoughts. But it does nothing more than that for me. I visit Kayla a lot at the cemetery. I go once a week. This helps me more than you could ever imagine. If for nothing else, it puts me at peace with things, even for just a few minutes. It is my break from the world.
     I got to meet Melissa. Its hard to believe that we lived only a few miles from one another. We went to school together. To the same school, and never knew her. Its crazy to think that I would walk through hallways each and everyday, probably passing by this girl, that was my sister, and knew nothing. I've only known Melissa for a short time, and have only met with her on a few days, but I can tell she has a huge heart. She has issues, and maybe even too many of them, but who doesnt? She seems like a sister to me, only after spending just little time with her. Her acts and thoughts, i don't agree with. I don't agree with the lifestyle that she is living. I dont think it is my place, or my responsibility to change or "fix" her. She is grown up, theres only so much you can do for someone, whom you barely know, until she can accept she needs help. But when she is ready, I will be more than happy to help in anyway I can.
     I got to meet Carrie. At her wedding reception. She was scary to see, only because I seen so much of myself in her. She is such a good person. I don't know her very well, but I could tell how awesome she was just by meeting with her for a few minutes. Of course it was strange. She seems to have been through some things too, and its almost like it closes her off somewhat. All in all though, I am happy to have met her. It just hurts to have missed out on so much. It makes it hard on where to draw the lines, like meeting someone for the first time ever, and not knowing anything for sure.
     I also got to meet Jolene. She seems more like me than the others. I don't really know her, and I can only go by what I've been told, or read, but when I met her, it was probably one of the most uplifting nights I've had. I seen a lot of myself in her. She seems so full of life, and was just very welcoming. Its hard to come to realization of things that are going on, and she just made things easier for me. I wouldve loved to be able to have more time to visit with her, but what time we had, was better than what we didnt have for the past 26 years.
     Its hard to accept this, and even harder to know that so much time has been lost. So much time that even I'm not sure I would want back. I've had a good life, and I'm planning on continuing it. Just because I found this out, it wont change that. I wont let it.
     Like I said before, this is all strange to me. I am still without answers or explanations about anything. I still wake up in the morning bitter sometimes because i seems like Ive been left in the dark with all of this. I didnt ask for this, and I didnt pry into old memories, and flashbacks that I remember now, but it is what it is now. If there is something you would like to tell me, then Id like to know. This will be the only letter I am going to write to you. I think that this is my part, being fulfilled. Considering that all I really want to know, is if you are ok, and some information on your family, I dont think thats too much to ask for. With not being able to get anything from people I have now, you are the only other person I can ask for this. If you would like to write back to me, my address is ***********************. Please don't leave your return address on the envelope. I ask this only because at any given time, there normally is tons of people at my house, whether it be my brothers, or sisters, or even my dad. These people, who feel they need to protect me, would probably hide a letter from me if they thought it would hurt me.
                                                                                                                         -Miranda Jean