Nick Ero Matara, Jr.--my dad

Tomorrow is the anniversary of my dad's death. He died on April 26, 1983 of a heart attack in Biwabik, MN. I was only three years old: too young to ever remember him. Even though I don't remember him, I find it staggering that he's been gone for 28 years. That's almost a lifetime to me.

My mom and dad divorced when I was very young, so I don't remember him at all. The amount of things I don't know about him really bothers me. The things I do know about him and continue learning about him I carry around in a small box in my heart. I would give anything to be able to talk to him for five minutes. There's so much I want to ask him and will never get to. I only hope that someday I'll be reunited with him and then I'll be able to talk to him for as long as I want. I have so many things I would ask him! For starters, did he love me? Was he excited when I was born? What did he hope for me? Why did he have to leave before I could get to know him? The list goes on.

The story of my dad in context to me is an odd story, at least to me. Growing up I didn't really know a thing about him. My mom and dad's divorce was a bitter one apparently, so she didn't want to talk about him much. Neither did my mom's family. I didn't even realize I had had a father until one time in Sunday school we were asked to make father's day cards. As a small child, it's hard to grasp concepts which are abstract to you. All I knew is I had my beloved grandpa, who I wrote about before, and everyone else had a daddy. Grandpa was my daddy. But as I got older, I wanted to know more and more about him and this elusive concept that I had a whole other side to my family that I had never known. But the answers were not always forthcoming. I always felt like the oddball in my family, because all my cousins had the name Lundgren, my mom's maiden name, and I was a Matara. Where did I come from? I longed to know.

My mom and my maternal grandparents gave me a wonderful childhood and I will forever be grateful to them for all they have done for me. But I still never could figure out why they wouldn't talk about my dad. I still don't really know to this day. It's a subject that is avoided. As I grew older, it really made me angry. No matter what happened between him and my mom, I had a right to know about him and his family. Didn't I? During my teen years, not knowing anything was a tumultuous time for me. All I knew were the facts that I found while looking through some of mom's paperwork. The more I found the more I wanted to know. I found his death certificate when I was 18. I also found out I have a half-brother from my dad's first marriage that I still have never met nor really know how to find. I was so angry that all this had been kept from me. I also found out my dad had left me money from his insurance policy, which I used for college. Though I would rather have had him here, he provided that for me and I am grateful.

When I was 20 years old I took matters into my own hands and started a search for my dad's family. I was so scared! What if they wanted nothing to do with me? But I had to find out! I needed to know about the second half of me. I had felt incomplete and empty for so long.

On the Internet, I found listings for my grandpa Matara, my uncle Mike and two of my cousins. There were other Matara's in the world, ones that I was related to! When I called my grandpa Ero for the first time, I was so scared the phone shook. But I shouldn't have been. He was so happy to hear from me! When I visited him and my cousins for the first time up at his house near Eveleth, MN, it was like a reunion talk show episode. My grandpa met me at the door with tears in his eyes and hugged me like I was going to escape from his grasp. I will never forget that day. He told me he thought he would never see me again. He said they had tried to maintain contact but were unable to. All I knew was that I had found missing pieces to my puzzle. One thing I learned that I had wondered for a long time was the location of my dad's grave. At the age of 20, I was finally able to visit him at his final resting place in Hermantown, MN. He is buried next to my grandmother, who I am so sad I never got to meet. I finally was able to 'see' him, even though it could never be the same as if he were here. I am so grateful to my friend Adam, who saw me through it all and pushed me to do this even when I was terrified.

Sitting at my grandpa's kitchen table looking at my dad's school pictures, eating pasties and drinking brandy was surreal. Hearing stories about my dad, what he was like, what he liked to do, was indescribable. When I heard of him dying alone in his trailer in Biwabik, my heart quaked. No one should ever have to die alone.

I was forever changed by that visit, and the couple that followed that. I finally had found some answers. But I think it was almost too much for me at that time. I kept in contact here and there through emails to my cousins and a card here and there. But I drifted away from them again. There is no really good excuse why.

My early 20s was a very hard time in my life. Actually my mid 20s was the truly hard part. I went through so many bad experiences that I don't think most people really even know everything. It was a dark couple of years for me. I didn't get into the grad school I wanted, so I felt like a failure, to myself and my family. I went through a horrible abusive relationship that scarred me forever and still to this day makes me wonder everyone's true motives. I had squabbles with my mother and grandparents over what I was supposed to do with the rest of my life and the secrets about my dad's family they had kept from me for so long. I dealt with some scary colon and stomach issues that I didn't know how would ever turn out. I partied too long and too hard, hoping to forget everything and lost some friends due to my actions. I even had a few scrapes with the law, which I'm sure people who knew me as a goody two shoes in high school would find hard to believe. I still can't believe the twists and turns my life took. But honestly, I wouldn't change a thing except for two things. I would be more kind to those who loved me truly and I would have kept better contact with my dad's family. But everything that happened to me, the good, the bad and the ugly, made me who I am today and I can honestly say I'm proud of the things I've overcome. I actually am more kind to myself these days. Forgiveness is a beautiful thing.

Sorry about the rambling. Writing this all down is cathartic for me. Back to the point. I drifted away from my dad's family. I think maybe I was scared that I wasn't good enough for them. After all I went through, I felt like damaged goods. I was ashamed. I didn't think I deserved to be loved or to have a family like everyone else. When I finally came to my senses, I couldn't find any of them. My cousin had since remarried and had a different name and my grandfather had moved. When I couldn't find him, I thought he was dead. My mother even tried to help me find him to no avail. I couldn't even invite any of them to my wedding because I didn't know where they were. And I thought Grandpa was dead and that I had missed out on being with him again. Whenever anyone asked, I didn't want to have to explain it all, so I let everyone think what they wanted. Again, I was so ashamed. How could I have let this happen?? I had wanted them if my life for so long and then I let them slip through my fingers. I was so mad at myself. That's another thing I had to learn to forgive.

Then one day I decided to finally get on this thing called Facebook. My friends had been harassing me to do it, but I saw no point in it. I finally gave in. And I am so so happy I did. Through facebook, I found my cousins again and my dad's family! I was able to finally talk to them again and I even spent part of Christmas with them this year! What a truly wonderful gift, one that I feel I didn't fully deserve. But nonetheless, it happened. I have so many lost years to make up for and am afraid I'll never have the time to do it.

Through them, I am able to fully see my place in this world. I am both a Matara and a Lundgren and by marriage, a Young now. I look more like my dad than my mom. Apparently, I even have some of his traits. Most importantly, I have my FULL family back intact. There is one missing piece to that puzzle and that is my dad. I wonder what he is thinking, looking down, seeing me with his family. I hope he is as happy as I am.

Though my dad's family was an elusive thing for me most of my life, I really was fortunate to grow up with the people I did. I had loving grandparents on mom's side, and a great-aunt and uncle I considered grandparents. When they passed on, I lost a piece of me. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think of my "grandma" Aunt Lorraine and my "grandpa" Uncle Norman. Some people even thought they were my real grandparents and I was always too tired of it all to explain that they weren't. Lorraine was the one member of my mom's family who had any kind words about my dad.

I am not writing any of this for sympathy. I am writing it for me. I have carried too much inside for too long and it started to turn me into someone I didn't even really like. I still have a habit of burying feelings, but I'm getting better at that too. This written piece is just a way for me to let it all out. If no one even sees it, that's fine with me. Because I can go back and read it and remember how far I've come. The bitterness and anger are gone. I have learned to forgive because God forgave me.

Through some of the things I went through, I lost friends due to my own actions. To them, I am sorry. I was so messed up. There is no excuse but I am a better person for it all. To those who saw through it all and stuck by me, you are all angels in my world. Derek, Adam, Kelly, Chris, Carrie, Nicole, Stacy, Jess....too many to count but you all know who you are and I want you to know how much I love you. And I love my family too, more than words can say.

So to my dad, I miss you. I wish I could say I miss YOU as who you were, but I miss the idea of you more. But someday we will meet again and have a nice long visit. Until then, keep watching out for me, because I can feel you near me from time to time. And say hi to Aunt Lorraine, Uncle Norman and Grandma for me. And please know that I am OK. Finally