All in the Family

I have an unusual family. Why do I say that? Well, including my twin brother and I, there were eight brothers and sisters. While we were still infants, our mother died of cancer, leaving our father to raise us alone in 1944. He hired a housekeeper to care for all of the children. But she kidnapped us. The Nebraska state troupers caught her in Lincoln and returned us to our father. His relatives convinced him that he could not care for such a large family alone. For some reason, none of the relatives were able to step in, so it was decided that the four youngest should be put up for adoption. My twin brother and I were adopted by one couple and the next oldest brother and sister were adopted by another couple. At that time, Gary and I were 21 months old. Although Gary and I knew the circumstances of our adoption and that there were other brothers and sisters, we did not know our birth parent's name or any other specifics. It was not until I was 26 that my oldest sister contacted me and opened the door to my birth family. I learned that my birth father died two years before my sister found me. I have met all my brothers and sisters except for the second oldest brother who has chosen to separate himself from the family for reasons no one will reveal.

The circumstances of my adoption were not good. The four oldest brothers and sisters thought the babies who had been adopted lived rich, pampered lives while they lived barely making it with a hard working father in rural Arkansas who never recovered from the loss of his wife and babies. It was the sister who found me who told me this. In truth, my twin brother and I were adopted by a couple who had financial stability but gave little love. Their marriage was in turmoil, they were both alcoholics, and my adoptive mother was mentally ill. I grew up being told I was not wanted but in order to adopt my brother, they also had to take me. I don't ever remember hearing the words "I love you". But don't feel sorry for me. I grew strong and independant as a result. I loved school because it was a place where I could escape abuse and be happy. My father died when I was 16, nine months after my mother died. Family friends were appointed by my father to be our guardians when my father realized he was dieing. They were good to us and provided a home that was stable and welcoming. Then I met my husband right after graduatng from high school. He was and still is my Rock.

Yes, my family is unusual. Brothers and sisters who once were strangers are now close to me. It is as if we had never been separated. Only one is no longer with us. The first to pass into death was my twin brother. That happened in 1999. It has been hard for my brothers and sisters who never expected to lose the youngest one first. But my loss is even more painful. When one of a set of twins passes, a part of the other twin passes too. I am no longer a part of WE. Now it is only ME. This feeling of being halved is very hard to explain. I feel that he is still in me, a part of me. We had a shared language and an internal knowing of each others well being, both physically and spiritually. I recently visited three of my brothers in Arkansas. The oldest is 75, patriarch of the family and crusty as an old dog. How I love to hear his stories about the family and his many great adventures. My other two brothers are 63 and 71. My time with them is precious.

Keep close to your family. Don't let squables and misunderstandings and pride keep you from spending time with them. Nothing could be worse than to let time distance you and lose one of them to the unexpected call of death.