This is going to be the longest month ever. I am getting so antsy to get going on our trip to Portland. I have the hotels booked in Missoula, MT and Portland, OR. They are surprisingly reasonable when you are accustomed to paying Banff and Jasper prices. I bought a new GPS because I lost faith in Samantha (our old GPS) after she tried to kill us in New Brunswick. (She led us down a godforsaken backwoods road complete with bears, boulders, potholes that rival even Regina's, trees and branches in any and all places, and possibly even the faint hint of banjo music in the air). I've browsed every tourism website until I drained the battery in my wireless mouse, and I'm sure my wife has hidden any remaining batteries in the house in an effort to avoid any further Oregon Fun Facts (did you know it's illegal to pump your own gas there?) or Missoula, Montana restaurant reviews. It's kind of bad, but that's actually one of things I am most looking forward to about this trip. Nasty American fast food and gas station delicacies like those awesome "meat" and "cheese" snacks that require no refrigeration! Mmmmm pork rinds! All those chocolate bars and chips and goodies they don't have in Canada and all the flavours of pop (Cherry Coke! Vanilla Root Beer!) to wash them down. Think I might have to dust off the old Wii Fit that's collecting spiderwebs somewhere in the basement after this adventure.
I'm also looking forward to spending some time with my biological father and meeting his new wife. I have been down to Portland once before to meet him, and he has come to Regina, and we get along quite well- although we are both terrible at keeping in touch with any regularity. I only came to know him in 2003, when I was 28. My mother was kind of a free spirit, to put it delicately, so I was the product of that era and that lifestyle (I have no idea what she was doing in New Jersey- I think it might have had something to do with the Grateful Dead). I was raised by the man I consider my Dad, who my mom married when I was 7 and divorced when I was 17, and he has taken me as his own son and been a great father and role model. While growing up, I was aware, but just ignored the fact that that man was obviously not my biological father. It was good just to finally have a dad, and I wouldn't want to hurt him. But naturally I was always curious as to my origins. I finally worked up the courage one night (it was my birthday, and I was in my mid 20's) to come out and ask my mother who my biological father was. She just wrote a name on a slip of paper and his last known whereabouts- North Bergen, New Jersey- and said he was a good man and a musician. My mother passed away not long after, and I sat on that information for a few years because I was wrestling with so many emotions and fears. I didn't want to hurt my dad who had raised me- I wasn't looking to replace him, or dissatisfied with how he raised me in any way. I was afraid of how my biological father would react upon hearing from me-would he be angry or embarassed, would I ruin whatever relationship he might be in. Would he just reject or ignore me? It was tough.
Well one day, I sat on my apartment balcony with a few cold beers and wrote a letter. I had searched on the internet with the name I was given, in North Bergen, NJ, and the area around it. I found an address for an E.A. Parente (my biological father's name is Edward Albert Parente) and went with it. I wrote that I was just curious about my origins and that I wasn't looking for any money and didn't expect any kind of relationship- as I said, I had a "Dad", and didn't need a replacement. but was just hoping to find out what I could and we could communicate if it was appropriate or he wanted to. It was terrifying, but I managed to write that letter and mail it off. It wasn't too long before I got a response. I received a package that included a letter and some small gifts from a very nice lady named Elizabeth Ann Parente. She was extremely surprised to find out she was my father. As it turns out, she was no relation to myself or Eddie, but she was very cool about the whole situation. She loved my story and even invited me to join her and her family on a trip to New Orleans- I just had to pay for my airfare! She's a very fun lady and I had an incredible time. But my search was at a dead end.
Fast forward a year or two- I don't remember the exact timing of it all. I was working as a night auditor at a hotel in Kananaskis, Alberta, bored out of my tree and surfing the internet late one night, and the urge struck me to look up that name again. This time a webpage popped up for a band in Portland, Oregon. And I was absolutely stunned to see my own face- aged 20 years- on a man holding a fiddle in the back row. I wasn't certain if it was just because I was looking for that resemblance to be there that it seemed so obvious, so I emailed some friends and family to see what they thought. It was pretty clear to everyone that I had found him. All of the fears and doubts I had experienced before returned instantly, and again I sat on this information until a few months later when I returned home to Regina. My aunt Tami, who is from North Dakota, and big on family, was particularily interested in my search and insisted I follow up on the information I had. She's very headstrong, so there really was no way I could resist. That's a good thing, because her stubborness and perseverance forced me to stop dithering about it and act. So once again I wrote a letter, similar to the first one I had written. And my aunt called the phone number that we had found. He called back soon after, and left a message with my aunt. She called me over to her house to hear the message. He wanted to talk to me! He sounded nice! He sounded surprised but excited that I had been looking for him. I was absolutely overwhelmed-excited, still terrified, unsure...just a whirlwind of emotion. My aunt actually had to dial the number and hand me the phone because I was still so nervous. But once we got talking, all my fears were washed away as the conversation flowed. We talked for some time, just learning what we could about one another. We kept in touch by email and phone calls, and he invited me to go down to Portland for a visit...which was incredible, hence the current trip plans (guess I've digressed a bit since talking about fast food and pork rinds). He has visited Regina as well, even taking the stage unexpectedly with the Celtic band that was playing at McNally's.
Well I went on longer than I thought I would, but I felt like telling a bit of the story of how I met my biological father as background information on why I'm so excited to be going to Portland. He has married since the last time I have seen him, so I am excited to meet his wife. She too is an accomplished musician and seems as kind and friendly as him.
Now back to tourism websites. Did you know that Forbes magazine rates Portland as the 3rd safest city in the US?
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