38.5 years later....
I know I hardly ever post on here anymore, but I do still check on everyone.
I've been searching for about 20 years for my father, (he and my mom were married in 1967, he immediately went to Vietnam, came on on leave, spent three days with my mom, they go through boxes in my dad's grandmother's attic and find his birth certificate which shows that his real name was Philpott, NOT Watson and they find a newspaper article showing his real father Condious S. Philpott died by drowning in the Ohio River in 1959. So, his finds out that his mother had his surname changed three times before he was two years old and that all along he was a Philpott (whom my grandmother, his mother had married and divorced), anyway long story short, he then went AWOL to Cananda (1969). Lo and behold, my mom finds she is pregnant after about two months, they write to each other through a man in NY. She tells him she's pregnant, he is happy, but writes a few months later to tell her that he met "the love of his life" and that she is also pregnant and he wants a divorce. Needless to say, he never came back to see my mom or me. The FBI followed us for three years thinking he would surely show up to see his child, since they never saw him, they finally left us alone (or so we think). My mom finally divorces him on grounds of abandonment, remarries, blah, blah, and so on.... I've never laid eyes on my father.
So, today, after a long search and quite by accident, my 7th cousin, 3 times removed emails me!!
Let me just say that to some, this may not be such an important event, e.i. my mother for instance, but for me, it is quite substanial. I grew up thinking I was a blood relation Watson, and so did my father. Until about ten years ago I only had hearsay that I wasn't really a Watson and then I was given the proof two years ago when my grandmother finally gave me my father's birth certificate, baby book, military photos, and childhood pics. To know for certain that I've been living under such a lie must have portrayed exactly how my father must have felt when he found out. I already felt a huge piece of me that was missing (my father) and then to know that I never was who I thought I was was a double kick in the gut. I'm sure my grandmother thought she was doing what was best, but over the years, she has proven even more how selfish she is and has always been.
To know where my family came from is of great importance to me. To know I have ties to true blood relatives somehow fills such a void in me that I cannot explain. No one else seems to care and regards any information I share as annoying, which is neither here nor there because they are not me and they do not understand not having a parent or true identity. No, a name does not portray who I am, but to know my true family mean so much to me.
Anyway, I thought I would share this enlightenment with whoever wishes to read it.
ciao,
Shannon
I've been searching for about 20 years for my father, (he and my mom were married in 1967, he immediately went to Vietnam, came on on leave, spent three days with my mom, they go through boxes in my dad's grandmother's attic and find his birth certificate which shows that his real name was Philpott, NOT Watson and they find a newspaper article showing his real father Condious S. Philpott died by drowning in the Ohio River in 1959. So, his finds out that his mother had his surname changed three times before he was two years old and that all along he was a Philpott (whom my grandmother, his mother had married and divorced), anyway long story short, he then went AWOL to Cananda (1969). Lo and behold, my mom finds she is pregnant after about two months, they write to each other through a man in NY. She tells him she's pregnant, he is happy, but writes a few months later to tell her that he met "the love of his life" and that she is also pregnant and he wants a divorce. Needless to say, he never came back to see my mom or me. The FBI followed us for three years thinking he would surely show up to see his child, since they never saw him, they finally left us alone (or so we think). My mom finally divorces him on grounds of abandonment, remarries, blah, blah, and so on.... I've never laid eyes on my father.
So, today, after a long search and quite by accident, my 7th cousin, 3 times removed emails me!!
Let me just say that to some, this may not be such an important event, e.i. my mother for instance, but for me, it is quite substanial. I grew up thinking I was a blood relation Watson, and so did my father. Until about ten years ago I only had hearsay that I wasn't really a Watson and then I was given the proof two years ago when my grandmother finally gave me my father's birth certificate, baby book, military photos, and childhood pics. To know for certain that I've been living under such a lie must have portrayed exactly how my father must have felt when he found out. I already felt a huge piece of me that was missing (my father) and then to know that I never was who I thought I was was a double kick in the gut. I'm sure my grandmother thought she was doing what was best, but over the years, she has proven even more how selfish she is and has always been.
To know where my family came from is of great importance to me. To know I have ties to true blood relatives somehow fills such a void in me that I cannot explain. No one else seems to care and regards any information I share as annoying, which is neither here nor there because they are not me and they do not understand not having a parent or true identity. No, a name does not portray who I am, but to know my true family mean so much to me.
Anyway, I thought I would share this enlightenment with whoever wishes to read it.
ciao,
Shannon