In 2016, my wife decided that she was going to have her DNA done, I jumped on the bandwagon and decided to send off my DNA as well.
My results came back three weeks later and to say I found the results interesting is an understatement. From believing that I came from an Irish-Scottish background, I suddenly discovered that I was a mix of Irish, Scottish, Scandinavian and Pacific Islander.
The Pacific Islander revelation finally explained who the elderly dark-skinned man in old photos with my grandmother was, he was her father. It made me feel incredibly proud of my mixed heritage but incredibly sad that my great-grandfather was never talked about by anyone on my mothers’ side of the family.
About a week after my results arrived I received another notification from the DNA website I was using. The notification told me they had located a direct relation to me and would I consider contacting that person.
I discussed the matter with my wife who smiled and said that my past was finally catching up with me. I was dismissive of her comments and was at a loss to explain who this person could be. I was a control freak who believed that nothing could have happened without me knowing about it.
I then had a discussion with some of my children about the possible relationship with this unknown person, they responded in a similar ways, a smile and a quick cutting comment.
I opened the contact portal and wrote to this person asking if she would like to contact me, I then heard nothing for about six weeks. Unbeknownst to me the person was not checking her ancestry site daily, and that’s why my question to her remained unopened and unanswered for so long.
When the person did finally open their mail, I received a response inviting me to talk to her.
We initially used email as a contact basis, she wrote to me telling me of her family background and how she had discovered about five years earlier that the man who raised her was not her biological father.
She told me the only information she knew about her biological father was that his nickname was Stretch and that he had served in the army.
The stars were aligning.
The timing, the nickname, the Vietnam trip, all fell into place. I was her father.
I had a daughter who I did not know about. Forty-six years had passed from her birth to our connection.
I spoke to my children, all bar one was positive about the matter, one has found it hard to come to terms with the new family addition.
My wife is happy about the situation, so there was no issue there.
I consider myself extremely lucky to have found my previously unknown daughter, we have met several times, she and her husband have stayed with us, we communicate regularly, and I am in contact via social media with my new grandchildren.
They live in the NT and I am in central NSW, so distance is the enemy, however we already have a trip planned for next year.
My one regret is not that this happened but that I did not see Nicci grow up, I missed her life, I did not see her become the woman she is today.
Nicci and I ask each other often about why her mother didn't attempt to make contact with me and it’s something we cannot understand. Nicci’s mother passed away before the discovery.
Would I suggest that people have their DNA tested? Yes, whether the information that comes from the results is considered good or bad, it is how you deal with it that makes this an interesting, exciting, and in a lot of cases a very happy occurrence.
