07/22/2026
“The Conversations We’ll Never Have”
On July 4, 2026, my biological father Jose Gorgas Jr. passed away.
It’s strange to grieve someone you never really knew.
For most of my life, I believed the man who raised me was my biological father. It wasn’t until I was a grown man that I learned the truth.
When I heard he was gone, I realized I wasn’t grieving the relationship we had; I was grieving the one we’ll never have.
The conversations we’ll never have. The questions I’ll never ask. The answers I’ll never receive.
I recently traveled to Puerto Rico for his funeral. Four of us siblings were there together. I spent most of my time listening, to their stories, their memories.
We visited Gurabo, PR where Dad grew up. I met cousins, aunts, uncles and relatives who shared pieces of his life. I hung out with his ex-wife and met Norma, the woman who shared his life for the past 20+ years.
As we were leaving his home, Norma softly said, “Hijos, no se olviden de mí” (Children, don’t forget me) Those words have stayed with me.
I left Puerto Rico with unanswered questions, but also with something I never had before: Faces. Stories. Family. And a deeper understanding of where I come from.
For that, I’m grateful. Losing both my mom and now my biological father has reminded me how easy it is to assume there will always be another conversation. There won’t always be.
If there’s one thing this has taught me, it’s this:
Don’t wait. Ask the questions. Listen to the stories.
Tell people you love them. Spend the extra time.
One day, the conversations you thought you had plenty of time for may become the ones you’ll never have.
I’m grateful for the family who welcomed me, for every story shared, and for a God who remains faithful even when parts of our story feel unfinished.
With love,
Fernando Lopez Jr. / Gorgas
