The story of unions (Family Part 6)

How is it that with a separation created by the thousands of miles of ocean between where I was born and where I spent the formative and current years of my life, both of my biological parents and I somehow landed within 200 miles of each other?

They live in Portland... This is a fact for which not even my over-analytical brain could have been prepared.

Here I am expecting to pencil in an educational stop in some quaint corner of the country while on my trip of discovery and instead am left to wonder if I had ever run into them on one of my many trips north for soccer. Did I ever stop off to fill up my gas tank next to the man who gave me my chin? Was I ever eating out with one of my teams never noticing the woman looking at me quizzically, like she knew me but couldn't quite place the memory?

The fact that I grew up not 200 miles from my biological father is beyond rare, having my biological mother another 200 miles south makes it almost unbelievable. It would seem that the chances of this would be so slim; military personnel come from all parts and walks of this great country of ours, Mississippi to New York, California to Nebraska, and yet all of the parties involved in this crazy tale are lovers of its wettest two states.

I have been told I am a love baby; that even though my parents had me when they were 15, the fact that they married two years ago shows that true love prevailed.

Oh, did I forgot to mention that? Yeah...

It turns out that my parents were dating in Japan and, being 15 and in love, their relationship kindled into a spirited one ... My father's parents, being high on religion and low on faith were afraid of a repeat performance. So, immediately after I was born, they sent him stateside to live with his brother; my mom remained with her folks in Japan. They tried to date but, for hormone-ravaged 15-year-olds, holding on to a relationship is hard enough, impossible with no means of communication except the rare and expensive phone call and the inconsistency of snail mail if you throw in the vast expanse of blue between continents.

Through the time apart rumors persisted that he cheated, something he denied but her young heart wouldn't dismiss, and they broke up. But fate and a deep connection once again reunited them when she returned to Oregon at 18 to attend Willamette University. Love forgave hurt. They were to date again, an attempt at reconciliation looming, but an ex-girlfriend, sitting on his lap in a cleverly timed attempt to win him back, ruined any chance. No amount of explanation could suffice; the pains of earlier rumors burrowed too deeply for trust to have been established and so they separated once again.

Moving south she met a man who she fell for, partly, she says, "because he had boys and she missed me". They lived together, this relationship allowing her to jump straight into the motherly role she had prepared herself for with my impending birth, and she raised his four offspring as her own. Together their relationship created the older two of my half sisters.

During this same time my dad stayed up north, his self imposed exile back to Portland lasting only until he heard she had fallen in love. His heart broken form his own inability to commit he joined the Navy and shipped off for a career, the pain of his heart periodically drowned out by the bellowed orders of a life at sea. His career brought him solace, but with solace can come loneliness, and in time he met a woman and married, their union producing the youngest two of my half sisters.

Life takes funny turns, and through this whole tale, their lives and fate have seemingly been intertwined. Though apart for 30 years they shared a connection of curiosity, always wondering what the other was up to, what life was bringing them and if they were happy, neither current relationship filling the hole of lost love.

Their school in Japan was small, educating K-12 with a school population hovering at any one time around 250 students. As technology expanded the school created a website that served as a database for its students to keep in contact with each other from which she searched for him, years going by with no means of contact, until around '04 when his e-mail address suddenly appeared next to his name.

She drafted many an e-mail, page after page of life, thoughts, hopes and dreams but always hit delete, not knowing how much to divulge or to ask. Finally she put together one of simplicity - "Wonder how you are, hope life is good." - and hit send. The years melted away with his quick return correspondence and they rebuilt their fractured relationship on trust, belief and the undying knowledge that neither ever forgot the other. They dated for a few years and moved in together in Portland, marrying in August of '07.

And so my biological parents, 15 and living in Japan when they had me, are not only married, but live no more than 80 miles north of me... That is nothing more than a simple car drive and I have many in the next weeks, soccer always returning me to the City of Roses. I guess the educational stop doesn't have to be in some small corner of the country I have never seen, I guess it can be in one I know all too well...