Aug 9, 2018

Meeting the sisters

So to any readers left on this sparsely updated blog, I have some news. As posted about earlier, I have reached out to my bio-parents and have maintained communication with them. I was informed I have two half sisters, from my bio-mother, but both her and her husband were reluctant to let them know I exist. While I was confused, I decided to be supportive in their decision as I didn't want to have any negative impact on their family dynamic.

Recently the youngest sister had an upcoming wedding, and the older one had a baby on the way. My bio-mom decided to spill the beans about the fact they have a middle aged brother. I can't imagine their shock to learn a decades long secret about a secret sibling, but as I understand it they took it well.

With my father's memorial service, which was highly delayed, my bio-mom set up a dinner meeting so I could meet her daughters for the first time. My mother and I were invited to have a home cooked meal, and enjoy some drinks and laughs. We were both nervous, and I was curious if they were going to even like the person I am, or if I would like them.

After dishing up a meal consisting of organic, gluten free, non-GMO (allegedly), and taste free food, we sat to eat. Conversation immediately sparked, and it was shocking to me that the three of us just met. We spoke as if we've known each other for years. No awkward pauses, no cringe worthy topics, and no need of putting on a happy front was apparent. While the three of us are in no way similar in personality or looks, it was congenial and I was very happy to finally call them family. While they'll never come close to having the relationship I have with Tonya, I find myself caring about their happiness and future as I do what I consider my own sister.

Given the happy moments shared with my bio-family, that week took a somber turn I had to swallow my emotions and give a eulogy for my father. It was rough, but I'm glad I did it, and was overwhelmed with the outpouring of love towards him. The memorial went well, and I made a slideshow with some of my favorite photos of Dad for all to see.

Oct 19, 2017

My father

As I flew into DFW from Seattle, holding back tears and watching some comic book movie on the tiny screen in front of me, I reflected on the week I just experienced, and the life I was given.

 My mother called me that Saturday morning, telling me she tried to wake up my dad, who was cold and not breathing. She stated paramedics were on their way. Ten seconds later, they arrived and started to do what they do. I stayed on the phone with mom trying in vain to calm her while knowing the worst had happened. My father would not be alive anymore. I would know a life without him.

Kelly texted me saying she was on her way home from Kenadie's dance practice and asked what I wanted for lunch. I could only respond with the horrific news. The paramedics confirmed what I had already knew, and a grief counselor started to talk to my mother. I hung up the phone to spread the word that my dad is no longer with us. Phone call after phone call, I talked with numerous people who were shocked and dismayed by what I had to tell them. My sister dropped everything to head up to be with my mother, and Kelly arrived home and booked a flight and car.

I arrived late that night, to my mom who was already asleep. She had a long, tough day, and I envied her ability to snooze. I stayed up for a bit with my sister and her boyfriend, who kept me updated on how mom was holding up, and I thanked them for taking the time to make the long drive north. I told Facebook what had happened, and immediately was taken aback by all the well wishes and offers of condolences. Stories were shared about him, and fond memories were had. I sat on the couch, looked around the room, and wondered how I'm going to take care of all of this. This is what I posted:

"My father dreamed a life of adventure. In his youth he buried his head in Kipling stories and the comic book tales of Uncle Scrooge, fantasizing about a life of voyages, treasure hunting, and engaging with cultures foreign to him. People of my generation may recall the Disney comics as being the basis for the 80s cartoon "Duck Tales." 

After college, he decided he wanted to live out the life he wanted, touring the world having quests in places far and exotic. He decided the honorable thing would be to stop dating my mother, and join up as a merchant marine. As he stood there about to board ship, something ate at him. He turned away from his passion, followed his heart, and never got on that boat. He came back to my mother, proposed, and made her and his family his first priority. 

Years later when my parents spent a decade trying to have a child, he told my mother he was taking a day trip, and found himself in Portland, to what is now Catholic Community Services, and requested to adopt a child. He surprised my mother with the news, and a year later they called my folks announcing that they need to come pick up their son. That’s how I became a Wilson. 

My dad wasn’t a saint nor a scholar, but he lived a good life, always putting his family’s needs and wants above his own. That was the father that raised and loved me. He used to tell me that he hoped heaven was something out of a Normal Rockwell painting, a world he always wanted to see. Today I say goodbye to the man I call Dad, who was the kind of father I’ll always aspire to be."

 The next day I called an old friend to tell him, who arrived at our front door two hours later and he jumped into work mode, packing up boxes and throwing out garbage. We ran errands everywhere, taking care to make sure mom was eating and getting enough rest, and I'd come back to the house to feel as if I hardly made a dent in all the nonsense my dad had collected over the years. It got so frustrating I wanted to light the place on fire and call it done, but rational thought got the better of me. It was hard work, loading box after box of nonsense into his truck, firing it up after not having been turned over in five years, and making runs to the dump, Goodwill, etc, but it was worth it as it helped put my mom's mind at ease. Every evening I would eat with my mom and would try to connect with her in a manner that seemed surreal. Dad was no longer there to join us, and we had to talk about her future, which would mostly end in sobs.

I don't know that I've ever been so exhausted, physically and emotionally. The outpouring of help I received from my sister, friends, and family was overwhelming and was instrumental in making the trip more bearable, but the pain of mourning my father while simultaneously taking care of my mother and his estate was almost too much. That being said, I am so grateful to all who assisted, and I don't know that I can ever repay them for the generosity they displayed.

I couldn't help but feel all kinds of guilt as I left my mother to her own devices while she was mourning her husband, but she's more capable than I give her credit for, and I have good people who are checking in on her daily. That helped make the flight back home so much easier.

I finally landed and got to see my beautiful wife and kids. Knowing they were well and love me is partially how I still manage to get through this.

Goodbye father.

Jan 20, 2017

A Prince whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people." - Thomas Jefferson

Apr 15, 2016

Learning about wiwille

After 41 years, I finally made contact with my birth parents. After I finally received my pre-adoption birth certificate, my wife did some internet legwork and found their contact information. She reached out to both, who confirmed they are my birth parents. I found them to both be alive and well living in Washington. I've spoken to them both at length and they've provided me with a lot of information. The things I've learned:

1. I'm mostly Irish, which would explain my fascination for stout beer.
2. I have two half sisters, both of whom are, as my friends have put it, hot. I really got screwed in the looks department.
3. My birth father's wife had no idea of my existence, until I reached out to him. He then told her about me, and she thankfully was excited.
4. On my birth father's side, only him and his wife know I exist.
5. On my birth mother's side, only her and her husband know I exist.

I've been keeping this from my family to not hurt anyone's feelings. They've been good parents and I don't want them to ever think I would refer to anyone else as mom or dad, but I feel a tremendous amount of guilt because of it for reasons to numerous to detail.

Feb 12, 2016

Descent into batshittery

I have a friend who is now on the conspiracy theory bandwagon. He is posting on FB more frequently with videos of the same old topics of some secret society controlling all world events. Sometimes he crafts his own words, such as the below:

Dont believe the polls... Hillary is part of the illuminati...! Pay attention to whats happening in our country. Oregon has uranium.... Who own all the mines? How bout the media? Who own that? There are 3 countries without rothschild banks. Wanna know who the next 3 wars are with. ? Make sure trump wins he finances himself the illuminti wont be able buy him out.
Those who oppose trump wanting to make america great again......... Enjoy the fema camps!!!!

I feel for my friend as he had it rough growing up, and it appears life hasn't been kind since we've virtually reconnected. Now from afar, I see his descent into madness. He needs help, and I have no confidence that there's anything I can do to help.

My mother recently told me her best friend believes the Earth is flat. Seriously.

Has the whole world gone nuts? Are people still denying mental health care is a real issue we need to address?

Jan 14, 2016


I find it surreal that Donald Trump may possibly be the GOP nominee for POTUS. I underestimated the appeal to the narcissistic asshole demographic.

May 14, 2015

What the hell has been up with Wiwille?

Well it's been a while since I posted any content that could be considered literate, and there are many reasons for that. A lot has changed in my life and taking the time to putt fingers to keyboard is more of a chore now than it ever was. So let me give a brief recap of the highlights of what's been going on in my life for the past six years:

  • Met a girl
  • Quit my job
  • Moved halfway across the country from the liberal stronghold of Washington to the conservative Mecca that is Texas.
  • Got a new job, married said girl, and built a house in the span of a year.
  • Became a dad to a beautiful baby girl.
  • Sold a house, bought a new one.
  • Got a new job.
  • Became a dad to a beautiful baby boy.
  • Sold a house, bought a new one.
So looking back at all the posts previous to the above events where I ranted about politics, detailed my thoughts on movies, told my tales of alcohol filled events, and chronicled my roller coaster love life recent events, while gargantuan, hasn't accommodated blogging, sadly. I truly miss my creative outlet, but my as my work requires my constant attention, and my family would rather have me engage with them rather than type on a laptop, my narcissistic hobby has fallen to the wayside.

My weekends are mostly tied up with house projects, most of which I fail miserably at, and family time, with the occasional beer and cigar being consumed. Before marriage, I would start my evening at a bar, consuming many pints, and seeing where the night takes me. Now I change diapers and take out the trash and maybe spend an hour with the wife watching television before we go off to slumber.

So yeah, married life can seem dull, but it's ever rewarding, thanks to my excellent choice of a wonderful woman. A strong argument could be made that she made the poor judgement of promising a lifetime of partnership with me, but I choose not to haggle with such minor details.

There's a lot going on with raising kids, which I'll share in another post. Hopefully it'll take less than six years to compose it.