Here was a new wrinkle thrown into an already existing situation. I had taken leave of my existing life and made the choice to move forward. Nowhere in my plans did I expect to be confronted with this turn of events. Having been remarried, Leanne and her new husband had a child together. This alone was fine, as it was her life now and to contend with in her own way. The issue became engulfing in my own mind. I had been working now for some time with kids from all walks of life and the many different circumstances in which they had come from. Seeing the results of families having been torn apart, residual effects on the youth, and the many horror stories shared by them in relationship to their lives. I had seen firsthand what results were being embedded in individual lives, and the struggles to break free from the trapped souls and behaviors associated with their torments. Now I was faced with my own blood kin being a victim of a similar situation.

Having the marriage dissolved when we did, Nathan was but two years of age. In my own mind, I couldn’t image him having the connection of me being his dad. After all we had spent more time apart than together. I was not convinced of his ability to recognize that a true bond had been established. So when the court issued papers had arrived I was immediately washed with emotions, and questions. I had never met Leanne’s new husband, and knew nothing about him aside from he was a band member, and that apparently he made her happy. Should I contest the adoption? What would be the benefits and the point to dragging out such a course of action? Would it somehow reconnect me to Nathan? I feared it would not. So, in the interest of Nathan’s future and to eliminate any contested battles, I agreed to allow the adoption, breaking all legal rights and ties associated with my son.

The ever haunting words of my father would not escape my mind. “Never give up on Nate” kept ringing in my head, over and over again, like a bad song repeating itself. Somehow, I knew at that time, there would be lasting repercussions to my decision.

The hearing went forward without my presence for contesting the adoption, as I had new responsibilities and ties with the camp, and could not just pack up and take off. I received a confirmation letter stating the adoption had been granted, and felt somewhat relieved that this chapter and issue in my life had come to a close. She now was happily married, Nathan had a new father and sibling, and they would enjoy their lives together. I was now free to live my life. I kept asking myself if I was doing the right thing allowing the adoption, and was I shirking my responsibilities as a parent, and as an adult. Continued exposure to the kids at camp just emphasized my belief I had done right by Nathan, allowing the adoption and giving him a chance at a somewhat normal life.

My last communication with Leanne and Nathan was at my mom’s funeral back in ninety-three. At that time it had been mutually agreed, that should Nathan have any desire to follow his past, and desire to reconnect with me for whatever reasons, it was to be his decision, and I would not question nor turn him away. However, I myself, would not initiate nor intrude upon is life.

In the interim, I had chosen to take a new position and expand my horizons in the Human Service field. I had relocated to Largo/Clearwater area of Florida and taken a position as a Residential Home manager for an outfit called UPARC. (Upper Pinellas Association for Retarded Citizens). I was responsible for the overall operation of the residence and the training of staff and residents. It was here that I met my current wife Deborah. She had the position I was to fill. She had taken on a summer job in New York at a camp for Autistic kids and in between her return to UPARC and the time I had arrived, Communication with the agency went array. Seems I had been hired to fill the position she was returning to. So our first encounter was an interesting one to say the least. Long story short, I took the position and she had come under me as a Residential aid/instructor for that particular home. Well, in light of being politically correct, no work romance was going to occur under my watch...

It had been decided since we had formed a relationship and were genuinely becoming involved in that relationship, to separate the two of us in the working aspect of our lives. An opening had come available at a nearby home around the corner from our existing local. She opted to take that position, thereby bypassing the work romance issue completely. Shortly thereafter, we had decided to rent together. So we began looking for a suitable apartment and location we would be comfortable with and have the ability to afford. We found suitable accommodations and moved in together. We had begun the stages of our new relationship together, under one roof, and with anticipation.

Strike three:

Again, having announced the new relationship and the living accommodations to family members, preceded by the announcement of the adoption, I was now again, in the web of parental disappointment. I had again stirred the grains of family respectability, values and beliefs.