The 50th birthday celebration was underway, so the lake house was roaring with laughter from inside and out. Most of the attendees imbibed a bit too hard which added to the overall entertainment factor of the evening. The majority of remaining guests were sitting out front, enjoying the “Hoe Bag’s House Party” playlist filled with the greatest hits from the 80s and 90s. People slowly began to disappear to bed or head back to their Airbnb, when a body was found face down by the lake. But wait, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me rewind a bit.
Last year, I got a Facebook message asking if I knew who Jeffrey Williamson was. My heart started racing and somehow I knew that this was another long-lost sibling contacting me. I wasn’t terribly surprised given that my “Dad” was a ladies' man. I didn’t know him well but one thing I did know is that he liked his ladies like he liked his drinks; plentiful. Within a few message exchanges, I learned that I not only had a brother named Riel but a niece as well. I could barely contain my excitement, especially given that my dad/father/sperm donor had passed. As time went on, Riel and I didn’t keep up regularly and I was worried the excitement had died down and the window to meet had passed.
Later that year, I left the country to travel. One thing they don’t tell you about quitting your job to see the world is how hard it may be to find one when returning. I figured that I’d enjoy my extended freedom and head to the Midwest. For most of 2023, my mom was planning a surprise birthday celebration for her childhood best friend. Like many of the liberal residents, I needed an escape from Florida for more reasons than one. A few days prior to leaving, my mom confirmed that she had another surprise in store, yet this one was for me. She told me that my “brother from another mother” would be joining us for the weekend. I almost threw up at the dinner table.
A “maybe we will meet one day” quickly turned into “see you in less than a week” which was equal parts exciting and terrifying. I had never been so thrilled to go to Ohio. It seemed as if no time had passed before I was standing in front of him, complimenting him on his mushroom print button-up. I couldn’t stop staring because, despite his darker features, he reminded me so much of my dad. My mom and I agreed that if you closed your eyes and listened to him talk, it was as if Jeff came back from the dead and was standing in front of us.
The awkwardness passed almost immediately, especially given our mutual love for music, festivals, and photography. Riel and I swapped stories about our upbringing during the day while sipping politely on our drinks. Later that night, we upped the ante and polished off a bottle of lemon-drop moonshine. It wasn’t long before we dove into the sorrows and pain points of our lives while braiding each other’s hair. Both of us were eager to get to know each other and make up for lost time. Before we knew it, the sun was rising and the tiny lake town was coming back to life. Somehow, we powered through the lack of sleep and were ready for round 2 the next afternoon.
Spicy tequila sodas and Fireball shots caused the evening to go quickly from titillating conversations to a missing brother. Once I clarified which brother was missing, we led a small search party around the house. It was my mom who found Riel, face down in the grass by the lake. He must’ve really wanted to swim because the clothes on his body were soaked and his hat, socks, Airpods, and shoes were strewn about the grass. After making sure he was alive, my mom gave the “talk” about having a buddy system even if we were grown-ass adults.
I wish I could say that was the most entertaining part of the weekend but when you get that many adults together with seemingly endless bottles of alcohol, a few shenanigans are bound to happen. Overall, a fun birthday weekend in the Midwest turned into one of the most unforgettable weekends I’ve ever had. No matter the differences in how we were raised or what theories we had about other long-lost siblings, Riel and I became close that weekend. It’s amazing that you can live apart your whole life and still have so many similarities based solely on shared DNA.
Meeting my “Dad” for the first time at 11 was so exciting. Unfortunately, that was the peak of our relationship. I never held his inability to take care of his children against him. I knew that deep down he loved the kids he knew about in his own way. While he may no longer be here, he lives on through his children; however many of them there may be. As much as I could complain about the latent “daddy issues” he gave me, I thank him for giving me life. Earth may be a fucked up place but it’s weekends like these that force me to remember this wild world has a lot to offer. Time is always fleeting so never forget to celebrate the little things and always, eat dessert first.