You're not being in the least bit stalkerish, Lillee. It's not casual snooping! You are curious about your father, and I think it's very natural feeling to want to know a few practical facts about your parent, let alone the more emotional aspects.
The way I see it, by trying to find out as much as you can online, you're:
(a) Preparing yourself as best you can for what you might find out, see or be told in the course of actually making contact with him. This is just giving yourself a bit of armour.
(b) Trying to satisfy the overwhelming 'need to know' that you have felt all your life in as kind and measured a way as possible. You just don't want anyone to get hurt by this, including you.
As you say, I'm sure that a counsellor will be able to help you think about how to phrase your first letter. Hopefully they will also be able to help you imagine how you might handle speaking to him and/or meeting him.
I don't think there is any harm in imagining how it could be if everything goes well. That's essentially just a way of identifying what you want at the moment. What you want may and probably will change as you work through this process.
I know you are a grown woman, but I think it's important for you to keep in mind that in this situation you are also the child, and he is the parent. You do DESERVE to have your questions answered.
Somewhere inside you is still the little girl you were, who wanted answers and felt hurt. As she still exists, she can still be comforted.
This may sound weird or unclear in a typed message, but it's something I felt very strongly when I finally felt at peace with my situation. My feeling was that I, as an adult, was actually protecting and helping myself as a little girl.
It was almost as if I was standing in front of her like a shield, protecting her from the pain of the situation and enabling her to stop feeling so hurt. Only I was able to do that, in the end. By taking control and being proactive, I brought myself peace and calm.
For me, after the helpful counselling, I kept evaluating how I felt about going to see my father. But each time I thought about it, I was certain that I didn't feel ready to handle rejection - and I was fairly sure that's what I would find. I believed that there was a time in the future when I would feel ready and it would happen, but I was wrong. He died when I was 24.
It was devastating and I went through a very real grieving process. I was grieving not for the man himself, you understand, but for all the things I had missed out on; as well as all the hopes I had had for the future.
However, even in the midst of the grief, I never regretted not having gone to see him sooner. Even though he had died, that didn't change the fact that I wouldn't have been ready, and that having a door slammed in my face would have hurt too much to bear.
Since his death, I've worked hard to find some peace. At first I thought I never could - I thought that his death meant the end of my potential for a resolution. But I was wrong. I met his mother.
Before her son's death, she abided by his decision not to have me as part of his life. But after he died, everything changed. I only met her a couple of times, but we exchanged a few letters and seemed to have a quiet understanding of each other that was incredibly soothing.
The first time we met, it was a bit like treading on eggshells! I think we were both acutely aware that there were things each of us could say that could deeply wound the other. But neither of us wanted that. So instead, I think we found a bit of comfort in each other.
I could find nothing on the internet to prepare me for that first meeting. To glance sideways at her and see that a side section of her hair grew with a kink, exactly the same as mine, was one of the weirdest feelings I have ever experienced.
In fact, as a slight side issue to all this, I find it interesting and sad that there are so many similar stories here, and yet seemingly no website where people in a similar position can go for advice, guidance or comfort. Perhaps we should all start one!
The other thing that helped me was talking to one of my father's friends from around the time I was born. He was very honest - perhaps brutally so - and what he said actually gave me access to my anger, in a healthy way.
I don't know if it is the same for you, Lillee, but for me, one of the hardest things to deal with as a child was the lack of knowledge, because that forces you to create an image in your imagination, and by its very nature, that image is going to be exaggerated and skewed.
My mum was honest and open, but it's never enough to have just one point of view - you need more than that to get a sense of a rounded personality. It was like being in the dark, with my mum's point of view being just one beam of light.
When I finally saw a photo of my father I was 16, and that was another beam of light. Then meeting his mother and his friend finally enabled me to see him as an ordinary man, not a monster or a fantasy. I think in the end, that was the thing that gave me most relief. He was just an ordinary man who made mistakes. When I FELT that, instead of just 'knowing' it logically, it was as if something was released inside me.
I hope you don't mind me going into a bit of personal detail here, but I thought that some of it might be relevant. I very much empathise with your situation, and I would feel really delighted if you could find some peace about it.
Oh, and on the Sherlock Holmes front, I have found the following website helpful:
www.findmypast.co.uk/post84BMDSearchStart.action?redef=0&searchType=B