I want to be eloquent right now – it seems like the moment demands it. But all I am capable of is dumping out words.

Surprisingly, I wasn’t nervous when I met Mark. He walked out on his porch and I hugged him and I felt like I was seeing myself in a movie. I felt detached – like I was watching “Jess meets Mark on the Porch”.

The kids – especially the girls – were very excited to be at his house. Mark and his wife have a lot of pets so the girls played with the cats while the adults drank soda in the kitchen and talked about the drive and the weather.

Our conversation got intense at one point. All of a sudden Mark and I were talking about my childhood and I said it was hell and he was crying and coming to me and hugging me and I was crying and then pulling away and saying I don’t know how to let him hold me and Hugh was crying and….

Ugh.

I think that I should have left then. That was enough emotional intensity for one year, really. And I don’t know how I feel about MY FATHER hugging me and MY FATHER crying because of me and MY FATHER loving me.

But we still had three. more. days. of our visit.

Thankfully during our “crying hugging kitchen table chat” none of Mark’s other kids had come home from college yet so we actually had some time by ourselves. But once the other kids showed up it got a little loud and crazy and at one point I left the house and Mark thought I was never coming back and I almost didn’t.

Sigh.

This whole family/dad thing is really really really hard. I did not anticipate this when I called Mark last month. I wasn’t expecting to be catapulted on this crazy journey.

As difficult as it has been so far – I absolutely know that I would not undo it. It sucks, but it is oddly wonderful, too.

If I could tell my mother about Mark I…

Why do I feel so exposed and naked when I talk to this man…

Soon I stop typing.

I look at my screen.

I burst into tears.

Then I distract myself with the usual enemies: food, internet surfing, isolation.

This situation feels too hard for me.

Another day passes and I resist the urge to numb completely and so I fully feel the ten thousand emotions that rise up in my gut.

I go to bed early these days. I’m exhausted by talking to Mark, thinking about Mark, replaying my conversations over and over about Mark.

Mark, Mark, Mark.

Dad.

I guess.

This post is a glimpse into my brain. I don’t think I’m making sense this morning. I feel like crying. I feel like crawling back into bed.

But so far I’ve gotten the kids out the door to school, made coffee, read the Bible, and I’m about to go meet Amy for prayer and counseling.

I’m doing the next right thing even though I’m a mess inside.

I know it will get better. It always does.

2. I cried when I saw my brother Nick.  He is 6″4 and he has my nose and I love him and I feel like I’ve known him my whole life, which is weird and not weird, I guess.

3. My stepmother brought us baked goods, so obviously I love her.  Shouldn’t there be a sixth love language?  And shouldn’t it be food?

4. My sister Becca is just…lovely.  We’ve talked a bunch on the phone so I already felt really comfortable with her.  

5. My stepmom, Jan, and my siblings kept saying how much I look like my dad. That felt strange.  But I also felt oddly satisfied.  There is this part of me that was afraid I called the wrong person a few weeks ago and  I’ve been getting to know some strange man who actually isn’t my biological dad.  But if I look like him, then I guess I’m related to him.

6. I was so nervous before they came but I felt a lot calmer once they were here.  

7. After they left, I fell asleep at 8:00pm and slept for twelve hours.  This “new family” stuff is completely exhausting.  Wonderful, but exhausting.