*This entry is a part of a continuous series, reading the previous entries will help you follow without missing a beat*

It was a beautiful brisk day in February, 2011 and I had just finished performing poetry at a church in Silver Spring, MD. I was in my car on my way home when I received a call from my teenage son. The conversation went like this:

Mike: “Ma, a man just came by the house looking for you.”

Me: “What man”

Mike: “He was driving a dark blue Cadillac and he left his number for you; he said his name was Larry Hawkins.”

Everything stopped. I think I stopped breathing momentarily. Cars ceased to move past me, I could no longer hear my son talking…I had to pull over. Where is the next exit? I have to pull over. Safely in the parking lot of a gas station, it felt like time had stood still. I caught my breath, breathe in deeply and exhale and I can hear my son…

Mike: “Ma, Ma, are you ok? Ma, are you there.

Me: “Baby, did you say he said his name was Larry Hawkins?”

Mike: “Yes, why? Who is he?

Me: (Laughing) “Baby, that’s my father! You were talking to your grandfather!”

Mike: “Nahhhhhh! For real ma? (laughing) For real? Stop playing.”

Me: “Yes, oh my God! What does he look like? What did he say? Where is the number?

Mike: “Slow down ma. (Laughing) He’s dark-skinned about my height and he asked for Deserie Johnson. When I said you were not home, he said tell her Larry Hawkins came by and he wrote his number down for you to call him.”

Me: “Wow, thank you baby!”

I hung up from my son with my heart racing, my fingers trembled as I dialed the number. His voice mail…I fumble through leaving a message that went something like this: “Hi, this is Deserie Johnson. My son said you were looking for me and if you are indeed Larry Hawkins, that means I am leaving a message for my, my father. Please call me back” but before I could leave my number, my other line was beeping…it was him!

Me: “Hello”

Him: “Hello to you”

“Little Girl Lost”: “Is this my father?”

Him: “Yes it is, how are you?”

Me: (tears falling down my cheeks. Hold it together girl…just talk, don’t let your voice crack)

“Little Girl Lost”: “OMG! How did you find me? Where are you? I’m on my way home!”

Him: (relief in his voice) “I will turn around and meet you there.”

Words cannot explain how in that moment, nothing else mattered. “Little Girl Lost” and I were both feeling the same feelings at once: Happiness, Joy, Excitement and an overwhelming love. My father found me! No, I don’t think you understand. I had searched for my father for years. I had always felt a part of me was missing. I needed to know the other part of my DNA. What parts of me do I get from him? My searches always turned up null and void. About 10 years ago, I wrote him what started out as an angry letter but ended in forgiveness. I ripped it up and let it go. So for my father to find me meant he wanted me.

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