Almost like a Maury Povich episode
Paternity surprises aren’t that surprising anymore. With DNA tests delivered straight to our doorsteps, anyone can test themselves. It’s a new age. In the bygone age of the Maury Show, I grew up watching crowds of people eat up the drama of hearing those words, “You are NOT the father!”. I too was captivated by the excitement of it, some dads leaping for joy at being able to relinquish that responsibility they never wanted, while others sobbed, heartbroken at their lovers betrayal. It was good after-school television.
But we don’t ever expect it’ll be about us one day.
I grew up with (what feels like) a unique tale of betrayal, the one I thought to be true. A story of college best friends, one betraying the other by sleeping with his friend’s adult daughter. The short version: a sordid affair. The long version includes both parties being married, my paternity kept a secret for six years, my Grandfather’s rage at the news, two divorces, a custody battle, my Mom’s drug and alcohol abuse and mental illness. That’s all true! My Mom really did sleep with her Dad’s best friend and didn’t tell her Dad about it until six years after I was born. She was also sick in many ways and had primary custody of me until she died.
The fact that I can write all this while drinking a regular coffee and no whiskey is some kind of miracle!
