I’ve learned in life that family is a funny thing. The word is defined as “a group of persons descended from a common relative.” “Descendants” has never mattered in my house. I have two sisters. When I was in elementary school I learned that they were my “half sisters.” What half of them am I related to? Never had I heard this expression! My Mom never used it, and neither do my sisters or myself. When I was very young I had two step-brothers. At the age of 5, when my Mom split from their Dad, I learned what that meant. It didn’t matter to me then that they were not related to me by blood, and it doesn’t matter to me twenty one years later. My Mom taught me that family ties (biological or otherwise) run deep, and you ALWAYS go to bat for family.
I met my biological father when I 15 years old. I found him by searching his name on the internet (this was in 1998, when the internet was just getting big). I spent two summers at his house in Alabama and two winter vacations with him in Mexico. He cut me out his life when I was 18 because I couldn’t make the 16 hour trip from Texas to Alabama when my Grandfather died (I had no money or transportation to get there. My Dad’s sister was passing right by my town and I would’ve ridden with her if I had known). During the time we were on speaking terms he introduced me to his two brothers and his sister and a few of my cousins. When I was 21, I got engaged. I thought it was time to re-connect with Dad. He had missed every mile stone in my life (including my graduation) and I thought it would be nice for him to be able to be at my wedding. He apologized for ignoring me for three years and swore that he had missed me and wanted nothing more than to be at my wedding. We spoke regularly for the next two years. Then, about 10 months before the wedding, he stopped answering my calls. I have no idea why. I know he didn’t die because I called him from a phone with an out-of-state number and he answered. I was upset for long time. It hurt my feelings that after all we had been through he could just walk away from his own child, his own flesh and blood, with seemingly no second thought. But more than that, I was sad that I missed out on knowing my cousins. Especially “Puddin’” and “Boogie,” the two cousins I had spent the most time with. Thankfully I was able to find them on Facebook and am able to get to know them in that way.
That was my blood relative. I was lucky enough to have a step dad, who may not have been perfect, but who never let me down when it really mattered (miss you Buddy). I have another “Dad” who does not share a blood line with me with me either. The person I call “Dad” and who gets a Father’s Day present every year is actually my Mom’s third cousin’s husband (ex-husband now, actually). He has been around since I was 8 years old and he still is. To this day if I break down on the side of the road, or need an oil change, or help cleaning the pool, I call Dad. If he came to me tomorrow and told me that he needed a place to stay I would start clearing out a room. Dad has several children beside my sisters and me. None of them are biologically his, but they’re all my cousins.
I have a cousins in Mississippi that I haven’t spent any really time with in the last 20 years. But tomorrow if I called them and told them that I was broken down an hour from their house I know that they would come running.
I have an Aunt (my Uncle’s wife) who has been tremendous help to my entire family. And even though my Uncle has passed on and she has re-married, she is still there for any of us, any time.
Until I was shunned my biological father, I thought all families functioned this way. If you hurt my people, I hurt you! But I have recently discovered that there are people within my own family who do not have these same values. I won’t go in to specifics but I do think that it is sad when you can’t trust a member of your own family. It shouldn’t matter if you see a person every day or once every twenty years, you should value that relationship. After all, if you can’t count on family, who can you count on?
Just a little rant…