Finding Daddy

We all have or had one.
Some of us know theirs, others do not.
Some of us have been lovingly held in our Daddy's arms, had Daddy wipe our tears and lift us when we fall.
Others have never known unconditional, safe Daddy love.
And others still have been hurt beyond description by Daddy.

Today, I will helping an adopted child find her birth Daddy.
It is a complex and delicate process, because a PI can not reunite people unless certain procedures are followed to protect the privacy and safety of all parties involved.
For instance, if I do find Daddy and Daddy is a druggie, or a sex offender,  homeless,  psycho or a leech... what then?
What would you do?
If I found out Daddy was alive and a world of trouble....
maybe it's best Daddy not be found?

And I, as a PI,  can't just go up to my client's Daddy and say, "Hey Big Daddy, here's the name and address of your long lost daughter."
That would be immoral, unethical and in many states, illegal.
He could be a Predator.
Or he could be a decent man with a family of his own whose wife long ago kidnapped his kid.
Daddy may have been the victim here....
perhaps Mommy hid my client from her Daddy and Mommy is actually a criminal.

So what I do in cases like these...
if I should find Daddy...
I will background Daddy.
I will look for evidence Daddy is okay, sane, stable...
then I might give Daddy a a letter, which I have read, written by his daughter.
I would read it to be sure it contained no identifying information in terms of the daughter's location, address or phone.
I would ask Daddy to give me a letter I could give back to his daughter.
I would be the go-between, until I am certain a safety net is  securely in place.

My client's Daddy disappeared shortly after she was born.
Allegedly, her parents divorced and she was told by Mommy he walked and never looked back when his daughter was 3 years old.
My client has nothing but fleeting memories and one wrinkled photo of him holding her in his arms.
I have that photo .
I have been looking at that photo and searching databases...
gathering info...
filling out forms....
including all the legal releases I need...
all the requisite Public Disclosure and Freedom Of Information  Act requests to find Daddy.
Yet I am conflicted.
She lived her whole life without him.
Now she is 25 and wants to find him "sooooo bad" she said.
"Why?" I asked her. "Why now?"

"Because I"m pregnant" she said. "I just found out. And I need to know, if only for my baby, what medical conditions may run in my family."
I ask if that's the only reason.
Her eyes welled with tears.
"I want my Daddy."

What do you say to that?
Me, the PI... I knew my Daddy.
I loved my Daddy.
My Daddy did the best for me he could based on how we was raised, what he knew and what he learned. He was not perfect, no one is. Yet he never violated me. I had no doubt he loved me. Unconditionally.
He stayed with my mother, loved my mother, loved me and my siblings like there was no tomorrow.
Then my Daddy died.

My client  never knew her Daddy.
Never really talked to her Daddy that she can recall.
Never understood why her Daddy left.
And still, to this very day, can't fathom why Daddy didn't try to find her.
Which leads me to yet another concern.
What if I find out her Daddy is dead?

It is with this case in mind, that I add the song above and these words to my blog.

We may look in the mirror and see wrinkles...
yet inside, we are still the little wounded warriors we were as children.
Time changes our bodies and our perspectives...
yet I have observed it does little to  quell the sense of loss, emptiness, loneliness and despair you feel... when someone you loves, leaves your life.
Dead or alive.

This is not a happy blog post.
However, it a real blog post.
Just because I was fortunate enough to have a Daddy who allowed me to believe I could be and do anything I wanted...
doesn't mean everyone else does.

Compassion is all I ask from whoever reads this blog, for those who have not had it as good as they have.
Some people were born with all the luck, love, health and wealth in the world.
Others were dealt a bad hand from birth.
Children have no choice what cards are laid in front of them.
Sad truth is -- sometimes, there is no Ace up anyone's sleeve.