As long as I could remember I knew that my “dad” wasn’t my biological father. He helped raise me and he was there for me. He was/is a wonderful dad. However, I always longed to know the man with whom I shared genetics.

When I was 19 years old my mom looked him up – my father Vernon and I met finally for the first time in December of 2000. There were a couple of times that I spent a month or two near him, just to get to know him and what his life was all about. He was a true southerner, stuck in his ways. Even though he and I had a tendency to butt heads when I was around, I loved him. I only knew him for a short time, and for the last 3+ years we have been out of touch.

Last week I sent him and his family a Christmas card. I was surprised to find a return card in the mail this past weekend. Inside was a letter from Vernon’s wife, Earlene. She wanted to get in touch. So I sent her an email, and we exchanged phone numbers. She called me right away. She had upsetting news. She told me Vernon had been diagnosed with lung cancer a while back. He fought it for 18 months, and died on September 23rd of this year.

My father, who I was raised to love, who I had loved my entire life, and who I’d only known a very short time, is now gone. I have only a few memories and a package of pictures to remember him by.

The day we met, my mom, my boyfriend at the time, and I all drove down to Arkansas. It was December, and it was snowing a LOT down there, the first time in around 15 years. We got stranded most of the way there in the storm, so Vernon and his family drove up to where we stopped. We were all in a motel room, and I watched out the window for what seemed like hours waiting for them to get to us. When they got there, the emotion overwhelmed me and I just cried and cried. I hugged him with all of my being, finally united with my father. I had waited my whole life for that moment. And then I found out I had a step-mom and 2 brothers: Jonah and Jake. We all traveled down to Louisiana to meet Vernon’s brother and some other aunts, uncles and cousins. Then we drove down to Texas to meet my paternal grandmother Helen. I was very thankful to meet her, because only a few short months later she passed away. That trip was such a blessing! I got to get in touch with so much of my heritage, and make some of my dreams come true!

A few months later I went to stay with Vernon and his family for a few months. Ozark, AR was gorgeous! I was able to go for a day trip with Vernon in his 18-wheeler up to Missouri and back. It was great to be able to visit with him, one on one, and find out about some of his experiences, and a little big about what life was like from his point of view with my mom, way back when. I felt life down there was awkward, as it was totally different than what I was accustomed to, so I returned home to Iowa after just a couple of months.

The last time I visited (in 2004) I had every intention of living down there, but things didn’t work out so great, and I left on not-so-great terms. And we hadn’t talked since then. I regret that I was not able to spend more time with my father throughout the last few years. But Earlene told me that by the time he passed, it was welcomed. He is no longer suffering, and he is in Heaven with his mom, waiting to greet all of his loved ones when our times come.

This is a true account written in my own words during the time it happened. I’ve lightly edited it for clarity in the present day (2026), with minimal exclusions, while keeping the original voice and meaning intact.