Went to my dad's church yesterday...

My youngest sister invited me to the blessing of her new baby. And so I went.

Five of my seven paternal siblings where there, as well as my dad and his wife. The two siblings that weren't there are brothers whom I've never met, ever. That left the oldest brother and all the sisters. None of the foster siblings were there.

The drive took me a little under three hours. The entire time, my stomach was in knots and I questioned myself over and over again why I was even going. But all the same pressed on. I was late leaving my home. I found myself shaking when I was trying to get ready and while I knew I needed to hassle, my body just seemed so unwilling. Than in the car, I realized that I would have to do 80 m.p.h. or I would miss the entire service. Since I assumed that my sister didn't think I would make it, I felt even more challenged to do so. For reasons I can't determine, I didn't want her to think I wouldn't come just because I hadn't accepted this types of invitations before.

I don't know if anyone can understand how difficult it is to be in this position I find myself in.  It is like a bad dream I cannot escape.  A dream that seems so close to being a fantasy, but only offers inescapable disappointment.

The week leading up to this event was filled with family activities for my father and his family. They came close to my home town for part of their family vacation, but of course I wasn't invited to that less dad's wife have to be forced to see "the face of a lie" Oh, how I despise and loath that label.

My sister that is sweetest to me included a stop to my home as part of her vacation. A constant reminder to me of her love and her longing to have me in her life. And I hurt for the balancing act she must perform. It was in contemplating this thought that it occurred to me, perhaps I need to be there for her. Maybe I have seen this wrong, maybe instead of her being there for me, maybe she needs me as much as I need her.

And so with these thoughts whiling in my head and my heart pounding, I found myself traveling at 80 m.p.h. to go to my dad's church.

When I arrived, it was a crowded hall. I walked in solo, wearing one of the few dresses I actually own. A power suit that is more business than Sunday school. As you know if you've read any other blogs is that this church is a Mormon church, and what you may not know is that it's a small town Mormon church. This means that not only does everyone know everyone, they also know the family members of everyone they know. My intention was to be a fly on the wall if possible, but that if I must say anything about who I was or what I was doing, it would be with my shoulders held back and my head high and my words resolute. For I will not live another day of my life being ashamed of who I am.

And so as I walked in, I took the little paper program as it was handed to me I scanned a sea of faces and not seeing anyone I was biologically related to I quickly found the closest empty bench to sit down in. I had made it with less than 2 minutes before the service would start and for that I was grateful, now I had good reason not to mingle with anyone until I gave my nerves a chance to settle down.

Two elderly women were already seated behind me and one woman asked me if she knew me. I explained I was just visiting (which is obvious as I don't introduce myself as sister so-and-so, but just by my first name). The sweet elderly woman explains that I look like the member of the ward that often sits where I have seated myself. This is not too terribly interesting to me because I happen to think most Mormon's look like each other. Being the entire church was founded by Scandinavian missionaries and polygamists, it's a relatively small DNA pool.

Moments later a couple sit down at the end of the bench and smile towards me. The service starts and now from my vantage point at the back of the church I can clearly spot my relatives, including my dad. They don't see me, and they won't until the service ends, I find this a welcome blessing. The blessing of the baby is sweet. I remind myself of my Grandparents and think of the many wonderful memories I had as a kid going to Mormon church with my Grandparents and I'm comforted by that memory.

After the blessing and sometime in-between speakers, the woman to the left of me, leans over and says to me, "I feel as if I should know you"

"I'm just visiting, I'm here for the blessing of the baby" I reply

"Oh, than you must be a friend of _________?"

"No, I'm her sister."

"Oh, you mean her sister-in-law?"

Remembering my promise to myself and not wanting to put this kind lady in an awkward spot, I say with a smile on my face but firmness in my voice, "No, I'm her sister"

The blood drains from my new companions face as the look of revelations consume her.  She puts her hand on me as if to reassure me and starts to immediately stumble for words. I know this feeling of awkwardness, it comes right after you tell someone, "yes, I'm the unintended child from my father's extra-martial affair." It's not the receiver's fault. We have all had our moments of awkwardness in times of unfamiliarity.

She says kindly, "It's just that I'm a friend of the family and I know them all" I smile and let her know that it's fine. We enjoy the rest of the service together. At the end, her husband kindly introduces himself and I make my way to my family.

I find my sister who is sweetest first. Than to my older sister who has always been kind and than to my youngest sister, the mother of the baby. In small talk, I make my way to the back of the church where I find myself seating again in small talk with members of the family that have been kind to me through the years. A baby is placed in my arms and I am grateful for the bundle in my arms. I learn that the oldest brother is saying his good-bye's to everyone else outside the service hall. I share with my family that I'm okay walking out to this location, again so grateful that the baby is in my arms. The poor thing is less than a month old, and I'm already using him as a shield to hid my fear and insecurities.

My brother musters up his inner strength to come and address me. I'm now on auto-pilot. I can no longer access my conscience mind to think of words and I cannot see anything in my peripheral field of vision. I don't even remember how he addresses me, I just say, "Hello ______, it's nice to see you" and he leaves and his wife comes over and I say the same thing.  And than the sister who has been so un-accepting of me comes and oddly touches her hand on my forearm in a gesture of what seems to be kindness. My automated sub-conscience continues in an expanse of hospitable niceties.

Lastly my father walks towards me.  I know my face tightens and I try to hid my anger and hurt yet cannot force myself to smile. He doesn't address me and I don't address him. He is anger at me for denying him to call me a pet name and I won't call him dad or father so we skip the formalities and he begins instead in conversation. "Thank you for coming he says" and I reply "thanks for having me." The sister who is sweetest to me as at both our sides. He points out his tie that shows repeated images of him and and the sister next to me and we make small talk about it. Later, I think perhaps I should buy him a tie of his face and just a blank silhouette with the words "Lie" over it but that would be mean and vindictive and I may think thoughts like that but mostly I don't want to be mean.

My sister with the new baby asks me to join in her in the Mother's room so she can nurse.  Everyone leaves while I'm in the room with her. She says to me, "you're welcome to come to the house but you probably have to work"

"yes, I have a lot on my plate" I lie in response.  And than I drove home.