Monday, January 15, 1979
Today is a day I’ll never forget! It has been about a week since Sander left. I was working in the cafeteria, peeling potatoes just like I did every Monday morning.
My manager came over to me and said,” Someone on the phone asked to talk to you.” I wondered who that could be since all my friends would stop by when they wanted to talk to me. I picked up the phone and said, “Hello.” Then I heard a very familiar voice say, “Hello, Søs.” I had not heard that name in years. The only one who called me Søs was my dad. It was as if I had just stepped back in time. I did all I could to hold back the tears, but it was impossible!
I told Dad I had tried to find him, then asked how he knew where I worked. He told me Sander had found him while he was in Copenhagen. Sander had told him where I worked. Dad had called up the operator and got the phone number. He asked me to come for a visit. I told him I would be there as soon as I could. We talked for a few more minutes.
I ran into my manager’s office to ask him for a week off. He said no, since it was hard to replace me on such short notice. I told him that I had not seen my dad in seven and a half years and that I missed him terribly.
The manager looked down at the floor, then he said, “I got divorced a few years ago, and my ex-wife won’t let me see my children. I know how your dad must feel. Go ahead and take next week off. We will manage.”
After talking to Dad, I was beside myself! It was hard to get through the rest of the day. I couldn’t focus on anything I did. It was as if I were in another world. All I wanted to do was go home to pack and catch the next train to Copenhagen.
On the way home from work, I was afraid to tell Mom I would be going to Copenhagen at the end of the week. I knew I had to stay strong! All the way home, I rehearsed, over and over again in my mind, how I was going to tell her. As I got closer to home, I was filled with anxiety!
When I got home, I gathered enough courage to tell her. She looked angry. I thought she was going to yell at me, but it was as if she didn’t know what to say. So she gave me a dirty look and let out a puff. She knew that my dad had found me and that he had the law on his side.
I called my Dad and told him that I would be coming the following Saturday. It seemed to take forever for Saturday to get here!
Saturday, January 20, 1979
I was finally on the train, on my way to Copenhagen. It took eight hours to get there. Once I was in Copenhagen, I had to take another train to Hillerød, which is where my Dad now lives.
As I waited for the next train, I was so nervous and excited about seeing my Dad again. The mixed emotions made me feel sick to my stomach. I wished I had someone to talk to.
The tension seemed too much to bear, so I called up my friend Marian. She was surprised that I had called her. She wanted to know if everything was okay. I told her I just needed someone to talk to because I was nervous.
Since Marian is an only child and has both her mom and dad, she could not relate to what I was going through. I only talked to Marian for a few minutes because she didn’t understand why I had called.
There was still a long time before the next train arrived. I thought I was going to go crazy waiting there with no one to talk to. I called up my dad and told him I was waiting for the next train. He seemed just as excited as I was. We talked for a little bit. It made the time go by faster.
When I finally arrived in Hillerød, I saw my dad and his wife, Henny, waiting to pick me up. It was strange to see them again!
Henny looked the same, but Dad looked so much older. I had carried his picture in my wallet. In the picture, he was slender with black hair. He had put on weight, and his hair was gray. I could tell he looked surprised to see how I had grown. When we went to cross the street, my dad grabbed my hand just like he used to. It was as if he had not adjusted to the age difference.
It was so good to see him again! I felt as if my heart was going to burst. It was hard to believe my prayer had finally been answered after 7 and a half years!
Sunday, January 21, 1979
It was nice that Henny and Dad didn’t have to go to work today. We spent the day looking at old pictures my dad had of Sander and me and catching up on what had been happening in our lives since we last saw each other.
Sunday, January 28, 1979
I am so grateful I got to spend this week with Dad and his wife. While I was there, I went with Dad to his job. He is a truck driver. We had to get up at 4:00 am every morning, but I didn’t mind. It was nice to spend the whole day driving around with him.
I spent a day with Henny while she worked. She cleaned the hospital’s operating rooms. It was gross to see the blood and things she had to clean up. But I was glad I could spend the day with her, too. Being alone with Henny gave us a chance to talk.
She told me about the day Dad came to pick Sander and me up, like he always did on weekends. It was tough for him to find the apartment empty, not knowing where we were or what had happened to us. He cried a lot and had a hard time sleeping at night. His hair went gray, and he gained a lot of weight.
I told her it had been very hard on Sander and me, too. Henny told me that she had always liked me, but she had a hard time with Sander. Then she told me she had ovarian cancer and would never have children of her own. It broke my heart to hear this because I knew she and Dad loved children. They have tried to adopt, but since she had cancer, they have been turned down. Henny did her best to make me feel welcome.
The week went by too fast! It has been impossible to catch up on the years we have lost, and it was hard to return to Skive. When it was time to leave, and I was about to board the train, Dad told me to promise him I would come back soon. I promised him I would.
Monday, January 29, 1979
When I got home from work, Beth came into my room. She went straight to my wallet, pulled out the picture of my dad, and asked, “Is this Dad?” I answered, “Yes.” Then Beth burst into tears.
I had never seen her cry so hard before. I asked her what was wrong. She responded, “Mom told me! You and I don’t have the same dad, and that makes us half-sisters!” I said, “Yes, but what does that matter?!” Beth cried even harder. She seemed inconsolable!
I went over and put her on my lap. Beth then turned to me and, through her sobs, she asked, “Do you still love me the same as if we were whole sisters?” I held her tight, and I assured her that being half-sisters made no difference to me, and it shouldn’t to her either. As far as I was concerned, she was sent from heaven just for me, and she would always be my precious little sister. Then Beth wanted to know why I had lied to her about the picture. I explained that Mom had told me not to tell her.
That night, I was frustrated with Mom. I wish I had been able to tell Beth the truth from the beginning. I am sure it wouldn’t have been so hard on her.
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