Hello,
My name is Scottie. Of course, you know that. It is, after all, the name you gave me. Well, actually that name was James Scott Griffin, Jr. But just as my predecessor, I prefer answering to the middle name. Mom always said I would grow out of that, but here I am at 31 years old and it hasn’t happened yet.
I look like you. A lot. I’m bigger and bulkier than you, they say, but the resemblance is undeniable. More specifically, my lips and nose come straight from you. I’ve been told the way I carry myself and many of my mannerisms are a spot-on replication of yours. Mom used to remind me of this when she needed to get a rise out of me. Blackmail, of sorts. Even the way I eat my french fries has been compared to you.
Obviously this is all just here-say. I mean, I’ve never actually sat down and ate french fries with you. I don’t know how your face responds when you feel angry. Hell, I couldn’t even tell you how tall you are. These are things I’ve always wondered, things I imagine I will always ponder.
There are a few things I do know about you. You are extremely intelligent and even graduated high school when you were 16. You’re an accomplished bowler. You are a world-class sports fan. I have also heard that it was extremely out of character for you run out on your family. I enjoy hearing little quips about you, but it still fails to bring the puzzle together for me.
Look, I’m not mad. Not anymore. I went through a stage in my early twenties where I thought I would hunt you down and put you in a corner and figure out just why on Earth you would ever walk out on your family. I’d get stern and demand answers. A real tough guy. People grow, though. We learn and gain knowledge in stages. It’s probably good that we do that. Having all the answers at an early age could prove both dangerous and boring.
Now I just yearn for that knowledge of who I really am. How am I wired? What were my grandparents like? How have you been? Who ARE you? What made you decide to leave? I was only 18 months old when you decided to part ways with your family. I couldn’t wait until my son was 18 months old because I had convinced myself there was something in my DNA that would make me leave when he hit that age. When it came and passed, I felt like a huge burden had been lifted.
You weren’t completely absent over the years. I vaguely remember my early years birthday parties. There was the basketball game you took me to. I still remember every little detail about that night. There was another time mom took me to your mother’s house and we visited briefly. Oh, and the bowling alley. How could I forget the bowling alley?
I must have been 19 or 20, just enjoying a night out on the town with some friends. While I was walking out of the alley I saw you as you were walking in. I didn’t even think you were around here anymore. Or maybe you were visiting, I don’t know. But I knew it was you, and you knew it was me. I was wearing a fresh Chicago Cubs hat, a symbol of an undying love for that city and that team. A love that was fostered by a wayward father who would send remnants of them back home to Arkansas so they could share a small piece of love for the same thing. I waited for you to make the first move. But you didn’t. You glanced my way and kept walking in. Talk about twisting the dagger.
Oddly enough, I think the fact that I do have an image of you in my head and I do have some kind of semblance of voice makes it that much harder. It makes the itch scratch that much deeper. You see, I know just enough about you to drive me crazy.
It’s not all bad, though. The void that you left was filled by an amazing man who until I die will be known as “dad.” When he changed my last name, it, unbeknownst to me, opened up a new avenue on the road map of my life. I gained two sisters whom I love dearly. He provided to me a meaningful life and afforded me every opportunity possible to succeed.
It also gave me direction. I didn’t quite know which way to go. Honestly, I still don’t. But you can rest assured that I do know which route to avoid. When I tuck my boys in at night, there is always an instance where I try to imagine life without or away from them. This feeling doesn’t last for a full second, but is super-intense. I get clarification every night within myself that I will never willingly be away from my kids.
Finally, it’s not my intention to paint you as a monster. I’ve run every scenario possible through my head and there isn’t a single one I can justify in my head as to why you weren’t around. You have your reasons, and I probably wouldn’t be satisfied with them anyway. I’m not looking for a reason. Or an excuse. Or an explanation. I simply want to know you.
So, Scott Griffin, if you are out there and stumble across this letter, know that you are the intended recipient. Know that I’m not going to judge, demean, or interrogate you. I only want to know you better and for you to know me. I want to show you pictures of your descendants and tell you about my wife. My youngest son looks a lot like you. Let’s talk about the Cub’s chances of winning a pennant in 2015. Do I have any brothers or sisters? What is the best poker room in Vegas? It’s such a short life that we live, would you like to be a part of mine?
Sincerely,
Your DNA Recipient,
Scottie Stone
Yelco State of Mind 
This actually made me sad. It must be heart crushing not knowing your father. I know you said you were over it, but you could feel the sadness. I’d like to know what your main aim for the blog is going to be though? You would make a great blogger.
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Thank you for the compliment! I’m not really sure yet where this blog is going to go, but I will be writing often. Thanks again for taking time to read it!
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Scottie I was glad to read this. I knew you as a young boy in Head Start classes with my daughter Laura. I remember you crying when your grandma or mom left you there. I didn’t understand why you would stand there and cry and not play with the other kids for a good long time. You did grow out of that. But your letter could be written by a lot of kids growing up without their dads or mothers today. I would like to share it just so other absent parents might see themselves in the empty void that was left and also the antipication of one day their absent parent having a relationship with the child they left behind. ( my grandchildren dad was gone for 11 years of his two daughters lives ) he think it is easy to just walk back in. It isn’t their mom is resentful for him choosing drugs and prison over two girls one five months old the other just unborn) Praying for Scott Griffin and all the parents that need to realize how valuable their families are
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Thank you for reading! I do remember you from my younger years. Thanks for recalling those stories. My aim in writing this was to allow some perspective from both sides of the coin. I’m hoping, like you, that someone may read this and either gain comfort in knowing they aren’t alone, or reach out to find a forgotten family member.
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Ok, I just read this again. Scottie, that is amazing. You may not realize it yet but you have an amazing talent for writing. I saw that before in your sports but this is way better. You can make the reader feel what you are feeling. Do you realize how powerful that is? That is the most amazing letter I have ever read. So mature and non-blaming. I read ALOT, just ask Patrick and that is what I look for from an author. Someone to take me to someone else’s world for a little while. If I am reading about a huge blizzard going on and the hero is out in it and I have to put the book down, and I am surprised it is not snowing outside. Believe me that is the aim of every author. And I am always sad when I get to the end of the book. Please write more. And I will read.
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Wow, this is eerily similar to what happened to me, only flipped around. When my son was 20 months old, his mother left, and said that I would never see him again (punishment of some sort, I seem to remember from her vitriolic ramblings). I remember I cried every single day for a solid six months; held it together enough to make it through the day at work, then went home and cried myself to sleep. Not because the marriage was over – it was beyond repair – but at the thought of never being able to see my little buddy. About a year later, I saw his aunt Lucille holding him in her driveway, and I excitedly pulled in. He didn’t recognize me, bawled his eyes out, and buried his face in her chest. My own son didn’t even know me. I went home and cried for another six months. Can you imagine how you would feel if that were Jax or Ben? You can’t. Trust me. Thank God you will never have to go through that.
Maybe something like that is what happened to you. You might ask ask your mom if she, possibly aided by her parents, we’re hell bent on driving a wedge between you and your father. Or maybe you shouldn’t. I can imagine that 30+ years of getting only one side of the story has your opinion of him set in stone (no pun intended).
Seems like all your Facebook devotees tried, convicted and crucified this guy with only half of the facts as well. People do love to pile on. Same thing happened in my case. I get it, just try to take a higher road.
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I guess deep down I knew you would find this. It wasn’t my intent to put you on trial. And for that I apologize. I really do. I’ve worried about how you would react to that aspect when you read it. It’s crossed my mind a million times over that I’m only getting one side of the story. I’m not naive enough to think otherwise. And mom and I haven’t seen eye to eye at times over the years, either. But the thing is, who is right or wrong means nothing to me. I don’t care about that. What bothers me most is that I have really tried to get to know you at least a tiny bit and I keep getting that door slammed in my face. Maybe I should take that as a sign to quit and move on. Maybe you’re just an asshole and really don’t care. But I like to think that 30 years later we could both either close a chapter in our respective books, or open up another narrative.
I know it got lost in the hoorah but I did mention in that post that I was not trying to start a witch hunt. It was irresponsible of me to use the term “run out” as well. If I had to do it again, I would change the phrase. Again, I’m sorry about that aspect of it.
PS-I don’t expect anything from you. And at your word, I’ll let it die for good. Just know that isn’t what I want.
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So you can move on with your good life, chapter closed.
The end.
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WOW…there is a lot said about you in that statement…And i for one am glad to know Scottie…He is Bright, Sincere, Helpful to a fault sometimes and an altogether good person to know …Something that i doubt you will ever get to do with that kinda attitude an its your loss sir …having had a child that grew up w/o my knowledge an not having it disclosed to me untill after she had passed away i can tell you its one of my lifes regrets that i never took/had the chance to know her..you are a poorer person for not knowing him an he is richer by far that you have chosen this path..i agree with you sir it should be a chapter closed for him from here on out
Scotties friend
Kevin
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Shame on you Scott Griffin. So what if your marriage ended badly. 50 % does. It is a statistic. My first one did too. Get over it.. Man up . It was never about you or her. It should have been about your son. You should have fought for him. Who happens to be my son- in-law. He deserves better. And he is reaching out to you. He is a great husband and a wonderful father to my grandchildren, OUR grandchildren. And he loves my daughter and his sons. So you will never know your grandsons. Really? Is that what you want? The end? Really? Chapter closed? So sad.
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Almost 5 years later and I still think about this. To be honest, writing it has been one of my biggest regrets. I have re-read your comments a hundred times trying to find something to latch onto. I know you said the chapter is closed, and it may be for you. It will never be closed for me though. My brain won’t let me work this out and I’ve come to grips with that.
And that’s okay. I understand how you could feel attacked by it. At the end of the day I just wanted to leave a note here letting you know that I’m sorry. Wherever you are and whatever you are doing, I hope you are happy! We all get one shot at this thing and I hope you make the most of yours.
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I see you got a reply. I see a lot of excuses in the reply.
Scott Griffin,
When they “took” Scottie from you, how many guns did they hold to your head? How long did it take you to file a legal request with the court to get your son back? How long was the court battle? What was the final say with the courts that made you stop your fight and not appeal the decision? Take a moment to think about the answers to those questions.
Now, why have you not reached out to Scottie in his adult life? The court still won’t let you? Guns still pointed at your head?
Your reply was all about you and how hard it was on you. How hard do you think it was on a small child?
Scottie stated that it wasn’t his intention to put you on trial or to make you out to be a monster. He said he only knew one side of the story and was giving you a chance to tell your side and possibly have some sort of relationship with him. You turned him down!
You were too worried about what the other people thought of you. He was the one person that has every right to hate you and call you all kinds of names but he took the higher road. He reached out to you when it should have been the other way around. He was willing to give you a chance when it should have been the other way around. He even apologized to you for the negativity generated toward you due to this post. Scottie even said that he didn’t expect anything from you and that it’s not his wish for it to end this way.
You should be very proud of the man that Scottie Stone is and very thankful that he had a dad that loved him to step in when you weren’t there.
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