Before listening to the CD, I worried that hearing my donor’s voice might make me feel the loss of a father even more, and at first it did. It was easier to convince myself that I had no dad until I heard his voice and saw his photo. I remember thinking, “I guess I do have a dad,” and I began fantasizing about everything we could have done together — and maybe still could.
After all, he was out there, with his email address a quick Google search away. I wondered if he would be proud of me, find me smart or funny or interesting, enjoy my company. I imagined talking about sports and books and life with him, and what it would be like to walk through the world with a man who would make people think the second they saw us together, “They’re definitely father and son.”
But the more I contemplated contacting him, the more I thought about what he had said on the CD about wanting his offspring to feel whole.
We all have a need to know where we come from and what shapes us into the people we are. Genetics mold us in some ways, but no matter how much I learned about my donor, he still felt like a stranger. All those things I imagined doing with my biological father? I was already doing those things with people who shaped who I am in far more meaningful ways.
I decided not to contact my donor because I realized that I’d had fathers all along — dozens of them. There were teachers, coaches, other people’s dads, family friends, my beloved grandfather.
For me, these father figures are a collage of wildly diverse personalities and perspectives giving me more fathering combined than an individual dad could possibly provide. Biology is strong, but it’s also easy. The people who father me do it for no other reason than that they choose to.
Some of these men coached my teams, talked to me about relationships and taught me how to shave and tie a tie. Others took me to museums and Lakers games, made bad Dad jokes, watched every “Star Wars” and Marvel movie with me, asked about the books I was reading, swam far out in the ocean with me, helped me make big life decisions and gave me undivided attention. All of them valued my opinions and taught me to value others’, modeled personal accountability and showed me that it’s important as a guy to express your emotions — to view vulnerability as a sign of strength.