My brother from another!
My Dad lit out for good when I was about 15. Through the years I was told that the Red Cross would track him down and he would respond "if he wanted to." Fuck that shit. When I was early-30s I had an odd sort of day that ended up with me walking into a credit-checking agency (it was the 90s, forms were on paper), handing the lady my ID (I have my dad's name), and spouting his SSN from memory. If they saw that I was a young-looking 60, they didn't mention it.
They handed me a computer print-out of all my store credit cards in the San Antonio area. That night, my girlfriend, who was also a criminal, called those stores pretending to be my dad's second wife, just to confirm that they had the right phone number and address for "us", so we wouldn't miss any payments dontcha know.
(Pretty sure the statute of limitations is done for all this fraud. If not, please find me a jail with fried bologna sandwiches and not those damn microwaved Hot Pockets.)
Anyway, Criminal Girlfriend was Bored Girlfriend the next day, because she jumped the gun, dialed them up, and set the reunion in motion. We were in San Antonio that weekend, and I stayed in touch with my dad, sometimes staying with him, until he died 20 years later at 80.
My dad had a lot of things he was ashamed of, and it didn't help that he racked up new deeds with his second wife, who was probably well-aware of how easy it would be to lose him. As I get older, I sometimes make the same stumbles he did, not all of them, but I add a few of my own to make up for it. We had some good and some bad memories from after I tracked him down. I'm glad I did it. I am also glad he didn't raise me. That's just how it is.