*Defining Random Posting #; To post a little something, between posts, not relevant to previous posts that are not completed.

Last week, I called a man, to tell him, that my Mother had told me — her son — that I was, his son.

There may have been some due pressure for me to do this, if only to find out some medical facts for my immediate family. For me I am 55 years old, and I had resolve to the fact that it just wasn’t needed, so why bother? But some unforeseen force made me call one morning last week while in the solitude of work.

The Call

Begin (screenplay)

He answered my call, and with extreme intrepidness I asked; “Do you know me?” (insert a name for me),

Calmly he replied; “No, I don’t think I do.”

Now in a shaky voice I stated: “Do you know (insert mother’s name here)?”

There was a slight pause, and then he said; “Oh,— yes I do know her.”

Still trying to catch my voice I said as calmly as I could; “Well she told me that you were my Father.”

Immediately he said; “No, I don’t believe that I am.”

After pointing out some relative facts, that he validated for me I asked; “Then how was it that you were made to pay support to my Mother?”

Very simply he said; “You were born with O positive blood, and I have O positive blood. That was all they needed to prove paternity at that time, every other person in America has O positive blood — now they would do better tests.” 

End (screenplay)

The call continued with me trying to use short sentences to gather more information. He spoke briefly about how my Mother and him were just “Hookups” and had only “Hooked up”  a couple of times, and at the end of every one of his paragraphs came the resounding reply that; “No, I don’t believe that I am your Father.”

I finally asked him the question that had forced me into the situation in the first place, and that was for some medical questions about the genetics of the family line, even though I wasn’t his son, so he says. He obliged; and the phone call ended.

To be honest I feel OK about this, it (the call) is finally over we spoke, very congenially, what happens now who knows. I feel deep down the he is my blood Father, and that it is a “He said, She said, thing between my Mother and him. My age and state of mind currently is allowing this to happen, and to happen without incident. I now know some medical, and some genealogical history that I will keep with me like some kind of gift that I can now pass down to my boys.