Opa Tony & Oma Bernie

It’s been quiet on the blog front, as a few people have doubtless noticed. The days have been long and full, leaving precious little energy and time for blogging.

My natural father arrived in Amsterdam last Thursday, courtesy of a delayed Aer Lingus flight. We amused ourselves while we waited by watching Daphne Dekkers recording a segment for what was obviously some low-brow American reality show, because the production crew were all American. We were surprised by their arrogance, as they acted as if they owned the airport.

Anyway, Tony finally emerged with his wife, Bernie, just when I was starting to think they hadn’t made it onto the plane. He was easy to recognise from his photos. In fact, he was easy enough to recognise from my own reflection.

Tony was clearly moved by the meeting. We hugged for what seemed like an eternity, the culmination of an almost 41 year search. “Long time, no see”, I said

It’s different for me. I obviously have no memories of him from the first few months of my life. I’m also not the one who has spent the better part of his life searching for a lost child, wondering what happened to him and whether he is dead or alive. For me, therefore, it was not the fulfilment of a drawn-out and agonising process. It was simply the meeting of a stranger, one with whom I happen to share an unusually large amount of DNA.

Which isn’t to say I wasn’t curious, of course; it’s just that the reunion wasn’t fulfilling a need for me.

That matter-of-fact attitude to the reunion pretty much set the tone for the stay. From the outset, the atmosphere was very relaxed. We played it by ear and engaged in small talk as much, if not more, as we did in discussions about the past.

As the days passed, we got to know one another better and, by the end of the trip, it felt as if we’d known each other a lot longer than we have. Chewing the fat came naturally, there were no pregnant pauses and it felt very comfortable to just sit in silence in the same room or out on the patio.

Opa Tony was certainly a big hit with Eloïse, too. Right from the first moment, he was running around with her and playing the jester, an approach that served to completely obviate any need she might have felt to first gain some familiarity with him. She fell for him on the spot.

Lucas, too, would beam from ear to ear every time that Tony went anywhere near him. He definitely has the magic touch.

And, lest anyone reading this wonder otherwise, it was a pleasure to have Bernie stay, too. I’m sure Tony is the person he is today in no small part thanks to Bernie.

The next step is to prepare for a car trip to Ireland, which will also take in my step-sister, Fenella, and her children, Eloïse’s cousins, on the way (well, they live in Cornwall, England, so it’s kind of on the way). Not only will we meet my three half-brothers, Ronan, Shane and Jason, but we also hope to get around a sizeable chunk of Ireland at the same time.

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