One of the most intricate parts of knowing who you are is having a full picture of your entire historical composition, which means knowing your mother and your father. But many of us don’t know both sides of our family.
Over my lifetime, I’ve had a couple of visits with my father. My mother did grant that when he came to visit once we moved back to New York. But those visits were very short because of mama drama. That’s how I’m gonna label it. Those visits were very short and didn’t lead to any type of relationship between my father and me.
The last time my father and I visited, he was supposed to return, but it never happened. It always bothered me. Why? Cause he promised he would, but not a phone call, not a word. I knew not to say anything to my mother, but I always held it in.
Years later, my mother happened to run into him, and her usual bolstered self came back. She says, “I saw that bee of a father of yours walking in the mall. I looked at him and said, oh, your ass is still alive.” And then I realized he didn’t return because of her. Not that he didn’t want to, but something she did or said prevented it. And I made up my mind that as soon as I become of age, I’m going to seek out my father without her.
Unfortunately, fate had its own direction in that. He passed away right after my 19th birthday. I had no way of finding him or even knowing this.
To find out information about my father, I needed to speak with my cousin’s mother and my godmother. Between the two of them, I learned that my father loved the color red, as I do, and that he was an entrepreneur. He owned one of the oldest cab companies in Brooklyn. I found the name of his cab company and traced it down. It was sold two years after his death.
Trying to find him and locate his family, I ended up with dead ends. I tried Facebook. You know, you go on the internet, and you do the traces. And I thought I had his proper address, but it turned out to be a dead end.
Every now and then, my mother would bring up my father’s side, especially when it came to my physique. Apparently, from the waist up, I take after my father’s side. From the waist down, I take after my mother’s side. Anytime growing up, my mother had to buy me a brassiere, I had to hear about it. The only thing she ever said was, “You take that after your father’s side.” It’s the only thing she ever told me about my father’s side. Nothing else.
Fast forward to this past January. My mother and I were talking, and it went from my statue to me not ever finding anything to do with my father, to fighting my father’s family, to somehow about his company. And I made it known, “Well, the family sold his company after his death.”
And she says, “Why isn’t his son running the company?”
Stop. Rewind. What did you just say, mama?
“Why isn’t his oldest child running the company? What? Oldest child. His son. What son?
He has a son.
What do you mean? Why isn’t Junior…? So she kept running her mouth, but right now I’m flabbergasted. My jaw hit the floor. You’re telling me that my father’s oldest child is a boy named after him. And no one—my godmother, my aunt—nobody has ever told me that my father had a boy.
So now I’m floored. Daddy (Abba Yahweh), what’s going on here?
So now the little girl is inside me. “Wait a minute. Do I really get to find out? I actually get to find out if he likes the color red. Wait a minute. Do I get to find out if he really does love me?”
I had about an hour left before Shabbat began. I dropped into a social media room and shared the revelation with them. I needed to share it with someone.
Two of the gentlemen offered to assist me. One of them used his ability to search things out and gave me information about people in my daddy’s neighborhood. He gave me an address for a relative and the phone numbers and addresses of neighbors.
I put a filter out to my spiritual big brother. He belongs to Ancestry.com because he found a lot of his family that way. And what happened was that he actually found my brother and his nephew. He gave me local names, so I was able to go to another app and get my nephew’s direct phone number.
So I sent my nephew a text. I didn’t get a response.
We were able to match what he found with what I found. We verified the addresses. So I am now writing a four-page, handwritten letter to my brother, letting him know we share a father. I know who my father is, and I know this is my father’s company. Because of mama drama, I wasn’t able to be with my father. He passed away the year of my 19th birthday, right before my graduation.
I’m using my business address, not my home address. I don’t want people just popping up at my home.
I wanted to mail the letter on the 15th, but I got to the window, and they told me the address didn’t exist. I looked up the address and checked the records. I pulled up everything about the house, the property, and the taxes. Everything exists, but the U.S. Postal Service said this address doesn’t exist in their system.
I haven’t mailed the letter yet.
I am going to mail it, but last night I called his son’s number. I left a voicemail stating who I am, that I am searching for my family, and that I believe he can assist me. I am going to drop this letter in regular mail, not express.
I may rewrite the letter and send it to my nephew as well. I’ll send it by regular mail.
I purchased Ancestry.com for three months. I may have found a picture of my father when he was younger. He has the same facial structure as mine. I pulled up a military record using my father’s Social Security number. I have the names of my grandmother and grandfather. I ordered a DNA kit. I’m going to do that when it arrives.
This is an interesting process. I’m not giving up. I’m going to reach out to other people I find as well. I’m going to write the letter, make photocopies, and send it to all the family members I can.
I know I could contact neighbors. I don’t want to do that just yet. I want to contact all the family I’m finding connected to Prince. Now, there are a number of Prince Browns in my family. I’m going to try to whittle down their children and send it down that way.
This is an interesting process. I just wanted to update on the search for my father. I’m not giving up.
I am Cee Marie, sharing part two of my legacy on my father’s side. Thank you for listening in. Until next time. Recorded January 17th, 2025.