The weirdness that is my family.

The more things I find out about my parents in general, and my father in particular the more confused I get.

In all, everything is just weird.

Both my parents are unfortunately dead. The same goes for the people that may have been sitting on the answers to all my questions.

I don’t know where my questions started.

I sense it was some years back when I found a very weird book amongst my late father’s personal things.

It did not really fit in, and it didn’t really fit into the official story of his life.

The book doesn’t fit into my house either, but I keep it anyway. Considering how the world is developing it may, actually come in handy one day.

Last year this sense of things not being completely accurate in my back ground really ticked off.

It happened on a very normal day at work. Where driving around in the country side I suddenly passed a huge military complex and was like: WTF, this is where I spent most of my child hood.

I know we all get that sense of deja vu from time to time. This was nothing like that. This was pure knowledge I had been there, when neither me nor my dad should have been allowed to have been.

So I started a bit of digging. I checked out his former work place and such, and let me tell you this - nothing ads up!

Nothing!

One of the biggest tell tales of something being off in the story about my father would be the company he [allegedly] worked for. Cause never ever did they have an office space in that very same location where he was working. Never!

Combining this with his whereabouts when I was a child. Plus the fact that two of my parent’s best and closest friends did not even know he lived in another country then the rest of us for six months during my child hood, it’s all gone even weirder.

Clearing out my now late mother’s estate during the past year have really set fuel on this fire off the weirdness that is my family history.

So me turning into some wannabee P.I. [private investigator] to figure the weird things surrounding my family seems quite right.

Some months back I dropped some of my findings quite randomly to a friend of mine, and she like: I think your dad must have been some kind of intelligence officer.

Which is exactly the trace I am following. Cause like I said. Nothing ads up.

Here are some of the things I wonder about.

My dad spoke more than five languages, fluently.

He studied weird things.

He travelled to weird places.

He had some weird friends.

He had access to a place he shouldn’t had access to being a plain old civilian.

The paper trail behind him is basically non existent.

His official employer never had an office on the location where he worked.

My parent’s best friends did not even know he lived less than 200km away from them for six months. While leaving his wife and children behind in another country.

What about me?

First of all I had, and always did have, a very weird relation with my family and other relatives. Which could be me just being the black sheep of the family.

But..

When I was a kid at school I also had a very weird second language of choice. Turns out no one else had the opportunity to study an additional language at this phase in school. So why me? Were we going somewhere?

To sum things up, I actually not only have second thoughts and ideas who my father really was or maybe more what he did for a living. I also second guess my very own existence.

As in, who am I really?

Where do I come from?

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