Since discovering my biological family I have been asked any number of times, “How are you feeling?”, “What are you thinking?”, “Are you going to meet them” and various takes on those themes. Of all the possible responses I could give I suppose the most obvious one would be flabbergasted. Stunned is a close second followed by amazed then…too many to choose.

Flabbergasted is a good place to start because it’s the only word I can think of to describe the affirmation of the world being truly small that this experience is cultivating. Small not only in the sense that we are all loosely connected, think six degrees of Kevin Bacon, but more so that we share common experiences with people we will likely never, but sometimes just might, meet.

Take my Uber driver Ruben in San Antonio for example, striking up a conversation with, “Where are you coming from?, and the follow up, “What brings you here?” I had a brief moment of panic deciding how much to share with Ruben the Uber driver, and said I was, “Visiting family” which led to a mangled, cumbersome clarification that I do in fact have family in Texas that I’m going to visit, but the main purpose is to meet my biological family for the first time.

“Ohhh, that’s going to be heavy man,” Ruben says. He then shares that he had had a child that he didn’t know about for over 12 years. When he finally met his son he said, “It was very emotional man.” Ruben dropped me off at my hotel, shook my hand wishing me luck and soon thereafter I was heading out to meet my biological uncle and cousin.

It was around 8:00 pm as I walked from my hotel and my first thought was, “What the…scooters? What’s with the scooters?”

Scooters littered the sidewalk, it just didn’t make sense. I mean, they weren’t in the way like someone would trip over them, they were against walls, laying on the ground and there were a LOT. They were also uniform in color which made me think people could rent them, but there didn’t seem to be a place to return them or lock them up.

I turn the corner still pondering the abandoned scooters when I’m distracted by a Cinderella carriage covered in lights, more abandoned scooters and increasing numbers of people.

Taking a closer look at the scooter litter I see that they were in fact rechargeable and for rent though I had yet to see any kind of charging area (corral?) for them. (Insert shrug emoji here.)

I enter Alamo Square, which is similar to Fisherman’s Wharf in that it has a Ripley’s Believe it or Not, kitchy souvenir shops and several other touristy places of business. Additionally the square had barriers set up for some sort of event perhaps a marathon, or maybe half of one. I scan the area for my destination Mengers Hotel the “…oldest continually operating hotel west of the Mississippi.” according to its website, and my cousin Cody. (Full disclosure, we were actually meeting in the bar.)  Mengers was chosen by my cousin Cody, whom I was going on my way to meet for the first time, for its historical significance and that fact that it was haunted; both reasons I would choose to meet visitors there.

From the moment I shook hands with my biological cousin Cody, and his father Robert, the conversation hardly ceased. We talked about a variety of topics from politics and public education to the history of Mengers. It was amazing how easily the conversation flowed and how similar our views on the various subjects were. From Mengers we headed to Casa Rio for some Tex Mex where we ended up being one of the last parties to leave. Throughout the evening I found myself focused on observing everything about them. Of course I was wanting to “see” myself in them and likely saw things that weren’t there, but their mannerisms, speech patterns, ways of expressing themselves was all very familiar.

We met the next day for a BBQ adventure. I say adventure because Cody  had chosen to go to a town about an hour and half from San Antonio called Luling, for our BBQ. I also say adventure because it was one.

Jumping ahead in the story for a moment, in order to explain the connection I felt, on the return trip from Luling Cody pulled in to a gas station to get a soda, Robert and myself remained in the car. (Actually Robert was likely sawing logs and hadn’t noticed that we stopped.) When Cody returned he had kind of a confused look on his face.

“I’m not sure what’s going on in there. It’s weird.” He said.

“How so?” I ask.

“Well, all the lights are dim and the lights in the cooler with all the drinks are off, it looks like the floor hasn’t been swept in a while and everything was just swept up against the coolers.

Then there’s this restaurant at the far end that’s dark, oddly decorated and in front is a display case with like, “an elephant, some arrowheads and bullets in it.” (Story note, this may not be an exact quote, but it’s pretty close.)

“Well. I have to go check this out.” I say.

“Do it! Go get a soda.”

I exit the vehicle, enter the shop and think, “Well, Cody wasn’t wrong.” I mosey, its Texas afterall, over to the wall with the cooler wall o’ beverages, and pull a Gatorade out of the dark depths of the cooler then head to the counter. Surveying the scene it appears the establishment is somewhere between the beginning and end of remodeling, but that doesn’t remotely explain the elephant, arrowheads, or bullets. What’s the point? For those that know me and/or have travelled with me, this tale makes perfect sense. Back to the BBQ adventure.

Luling is the epitome of small town Texas, or at least my concept of small town Texas, but I did not expect to see so many ‘Vote Beto’ signs. I was not surprised, however, by the “In Texas we Open Carry” T-shirt with the image of an open Bible on it. I most certainly did not expect the ‘Soup Nazi’ style set up of the “Bar – E Barbeque and Sausage” in  City Market, our destination for BBQ.

Entering from the street, which is only about a week removed from the 1920’s or 30’s, City Market seems like a normal, basic, small town eatery: tables – chairs – food.

The wood paneled walls were lined with historic photos, artifacts and fliers for community events like the annual ‘Watermelon Thump’. About a quarter of the way in is a counter for to go orders, and for eat-in folk to get their sides and sodas AFTER they get their meats. In front of this counter is a second line for the main attraction; BBQ. This line leads to a small room in the back corner with an ‘In’ door and an ‘Out’ door. Both doors and the walls have windows so patrons may peer into the dimly lit space. (This room is dim for a different reason than the gas station; in case you were wondering.)

I bided my time chatting with Robert and Cody and kicking around thoughts like, “I hope I don’t order wrong.” Fortunately Cody took over meat ordering duties as I went to score a table. (Not that I’d be rudely refused service, it’s just that there seemed to be a clearly established procedure for ordering and I didn’t want to break protocol.)

Before claiming seats I did enter the little room and Cody said, “This is where the magic happens.” The room was big enough for a large fireplace, 10×10?, a service counter, about three employees and maybe five to eight patrons ordering meat. Oh, and it was kinda hot and a little smokey, like being almost too close to a campfire, but smelled way more delicious.

Soon after I snagged a table Cody and Robert showed up with the meat and plopped it, quite literally, on the table. The meat is served on butcher paper and could easily be described as a “pile” of meat. Plates are napkins and there are plastic utensils should you be a rookie…or just would like some utensils.

I believe our pile consisted of a half-pound of brisket, six pork ribs, and two sausages which came with a thick slice of onion, and half a loaf of white bread. To this feast we added a side of beans each and Big Red soda to drink. (I had forgotten what Big Red tasted like and cannot describe what it tastes like other than to say it actually does compliment a heavenly BBQ meal.)

Over our feast Robert finished framing the dynamic of my birth mothers’ family and the three of us strategized the best way to approach reaching out to her.

Bloated on BBQ we headed back to San Antonio where we toured the Alamo, visited a cathedral, dodged scooters, and escaped the oppressive humidity with a return to Mengers. The day ended with a meal at Schilo’s a family owned German restaurant which is the oldest restaurant in San Antonio; ironically it shares a wall with Casa Rio which claims to be the oldest restaurant on the Riverwalk. After dinner we exchanged “See ya later”s, and “Great to meet you”s, and I headed back to my hotel.

Day two would begin with cousin Rhett, Cody’s older brother, who when I opened the passenger door of his car greeted me with a wry grin and a, “Mike fuckin’ Woodward!” This could not better fit his personality. We headed off to an area near by called Pearl.

Pearl is so named for the beer, Pearl beer, that was once brewed there. It is a gentrified area with restaurants, shops and on this day , a farmers market. Upon entering the courtyard I noticed an old round building that reminded me of a railroad roundhouse but was way too small. As we walk past I say, “I wonder what this building was used fo… oh, it says ‘stable’ above the door, guess it was a stable.”

“Well, let’s look! I want to see inside.” Says Rhett as he walks over to the large wooden doors and pulls on the handles.

“Ugh! It’s locked! Must not be open yet!

We meander the courtyard surveying the offerings of the market vendors but choose to eat at Bakery Lorraine. One important thing to note about Rhett is that he talks fast; really fast. The second thing to know is that he has no filter, meaning that he says what he means. Our food arrives and Rhett proceeds to fill me in on his perception of family dynamics. We also chat about our core beliefs and paradigms (that word is there as a shout out to Rhett) during our 100 mph conversation, did I mention Rhett is a car salesman?

I can’t help but “see” me. I just saw a strong resemblance between us and thought more than once, “Damn. I am looking at a parallel universe me!” Woulda been a good Idea to get a picture but our time was short and my mind was swimming.

On the way back to the car Rhett tried the stable doors again.

Locked. Damn.

He dropped me off a the Avis rental so I could pick up my chariot for the next leg of this odyssey, meeting my siblings.

So many emotions and thoughts swirled through my head since discovering my biological siblings that I cannot really narrow them down. Surreal, awesome, and as noted earlier, flabbergasted. Each time my sister Lisa sent another picture of our father, we texted each other or talked on the phone a wave of joy tinged with trepidation would wash over me.

Trepidation only in the sense that there was so much unknown, yet there was also tremendous excitement. I got into the car to head up to meet them but first making a stop to visit with my adoptive family cousins that I haven’t seen in a while.

Now, I’m a believer in the universe speaking to us through music. Approaching my destination Nina Simone’s “I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel To Be Free” came on my iPod. While the song itself has other meaning there are a few lines that resonate with me being adopted and about to meet my biological siblings.

I wish I could say all the things that I should say
Say ‘em loud, say ‘em clear
for the whole wide world to hear.

I wish you could know what it means to be me

I wish I could share all the love that’s in my heart

I wish I could give all I’m longing to give

As I am turning down my cousins street the song that follows Nina Simone is Silversun Pickups “Lazy Eye” the opening line from which is

I’ve been waiting,
I’ve been waiting for this moment, all my life

I almost begin to weep.

I visit with my cousins and their dogs for a while in the home where my family shared Christmases  and summer hangouts, catching them up on my adventure. In sharing how I discovered my biological family I’m reminded of one of the many things that is just surreal about all of this. I relay to my cousins that my biological brother TJ actually knows our first cousin once removed who also happens to have the same name as me!

“What a weird coincidence!” Says my cousin.

“ I know!” I say, “How do you explain or understand it?”

“You can’t,” chimes in my other cousin who adds what a marvel it is.  Marvel, that’s another word that is apropos in this context. There really is no way to understand or explain the full gamut of thoughts and feelings I have experienced and am experiencing.

While chatting with my cousins my biological sister Lisa texts that they will be at the restaurant at 2:55 which I find amusing and recognize as something I might do. Then at 2:55 I receive a “We’re here!” text.

I start to shake.

I question my wardrobe choice.

I say “see you later” to my cousins.

“Good luck! We’re excited for you!”

“Breathe!”

Still shaky, I get in the car.

Start the engine.

Oh shit.

OMG. OMG. OMG.

I pull into the parking lot of Krauses. Lisa said they were at a picnic table outside in the bier garden.

As I pull in I cruise right by an outdoor bier garden, peer over and make eye contact with a group of people sitting at a couple of picnic tables.

I park.

I walk toward the group of people and actually make eye contact with one of them and give the “hey, what up?” nod with my head.

It’s the wrong group.

There are two bier gardens.

Awk-ward.

I step into the second, fully enclosed, bier garden and receive a text from Lisa, “Hurry up already!”

I grin.

Ponder a reply.

Look up for a moment to be sure I’m not about to trip.

And there they are.

The moment I see them Lisa looks up from her phone to see me. I make a “What do you mean hurry up? I’m right here.” Gesture with a shoulder shrug and my palms up.

We walk toward each other.

Smiling ear to ear.

And embrace.

TJ is next. We shake hands, then hug.

“Great to meet you bud.” He says.

I am then introduced to their spouses and my nieces and nephews. I sat next to Lisa, TJ sat across from me and we all spent the afternoon, sharing.

I say sharing because I can’t recall most of what we talked about, vacations, work, anecdotes from our childhoods, but I know we were sharing and marveling.

I could feel everyone staring at me off and on, but none more than Lisa. Maybe that was because she was next to me and I couldn’t see where or what she was actually looking at most of the time.

Or maybe it was when I was telling a story about school and contorted my face in such a way that it prompted her to remark, “That is such a dad face.” Actually I think the reason I feel Lisa was studying me the most is because of what she shared about a song that had special meaning between her and our father.

“Spirit in the Sky” was playing in the background. She got my attention to tell me that that song had played earlier, before I arrived. This time when it came on she had started to tear up. Noticing this her eldest son came over to comfort her. Once she had composed herself she shared that she and our father had a bond over that song and in that moment she truly felt he was present.

The universe speaks to us through music.