Another two months since my last post. Thank Heaven that blogging is not my chosen profession; I would have fired myself by now! As usual, my other projects and life events have taken priority and blogging has been on the back-burner. There is a quite a bit to share, so I'll apologize now if I become overly long-winded; it is a trait of which I am frequently guilty in the 'real world' as well.
Good news first - as of this week, I have officially shed 75 lbs from my frame! I truly cannot express how good this achievement makes me feel, both physically and psychologically. I have much more energy and stamina than ever before and I no longer shriek away from the mirror when I see my reflection. People say I smile more, and that I carry myself a bit taller and straighter, which in itself is an achievement as I'm only 5'6" on a good day! Two months ago, I said my goal was to lose about another twenty pounds. From that point, I am down nine more, with another eleven to go. However, I've been re-assessing that number and I think another fifteen from where I am now would be a good stopping point. That would still place me about five pounds over my 'ideal' weight, but still leave me at a good weight balance for my height and build. And it doesn't hurt that my physician believes that 155 would indeed be too small for me as well. And while I am not setting a deadline for my goal weight, it would be extremely nice to be at that weight or very close to it by the time Christmas holidays rolls around.
And more on the good news front - my patio garden was an overall success this year! I harvested the last of my 'crops' over the weekend and I must say that all of the hard work was very much worth the effort. If you've never had fresh produce right from the plant, you really should try it. The flavors and textures are much cleaner, richer and crisper. Needless to say, I will be growing and harvesting again next season; however, I don't think I will try and plant everything 'under the sun' and then some! Some vegetables grew and produced much better than others (tomatoes, peppers, squash, eggplant), and they will be repeated next year. Others didn't fare so well - cucumbers, watermelons and cantaloupes; they won't be returning. I did, however, add an additional fruit to the patio, planting two blueberry bushes and hopefully in two seasons, I'll have my own blueberries; only time will tell.
And now, the not so great news. Cancer, it seems, is flourishing all around me with people I know and love. I had mentioned previously that my brother has been diagnosed with Stage 4 colon cancer. From the latest information I have received, the disease has progressed to his liver. I don't have this knowledge firsthand, as yet again, he has written me out of his life. Evidently, I do not care enough because I don't call on a daily basis and stroke his ego in the manner he expects and in the manner others do. I truly am sorry my brother is suffering through this illness; but after forty years, I am tired of the drama that results from our 'relationship'. It is exhausting and continuously pulls me down into the muck, and that my friends is a place I do not wish to live. So, I shall rely upon my sisters for information and leave the relationship with my brother as is. Might I regret that decision in the future? Maybe; probably. But as I am struggling to learn, I cannot live in tomorrow, I must live in today.
And speaking of today, well recent 'todays' anyway - in the past month both my father-in-law and my step-grandmother have been diagnosed with cancer as well. My step-grandmother's diagnosis is Stage 4 lung cancer. She is in her early 80's and has decided not to undergo treatment and let the disease run its course. She always believed that she would develop some sort of lung disease/disorder as she had been a lifelong smoker up until 10-15 years ago.
Also diagnosed with a Stage 4 cancer is my father-in-law, Doug. His cancer is cholangiocarcinoma - a rare cancer of the bile ducts. Both lobes of his liver are affected. Without treatment, his oncologist gave him an estimate of 4-6 months. This is the diagnosis for a man who has always been in excellent health and has always been very active. (And why is Stage 4 showing up suddenly in people who have regular, annual physicals? Have all of these cancers just grown so quickly over the last twelve months that they went unnoticed/undetected for so long beforehand?) Doug has chosen to to undergo the first rounds of chemo and then a reassessment to check if the treatments are having any positive effect on his cancer. He has kept a positive attitude about his illness from the get-go, and he is in touch with Michel every few days to keep him abreast of how things are going. On the outside, Michel has been taking his dad's illness well; on the inside, I can see that he is being torn apart on the inside. He experienced a small part of the cancer battle when Mom was ill, and I truly hate that he has to face it firsthand now with his own parent. On a good note though, we learned a lot about cancer from Mom's illness; this time we were prepared with the right questions to ask and to have Michel's dad ask his own doctors. And unfortunately, we know what to expect with the chemo and the side effects, and the havoc cancer plays not only upon the person afflicted, but those who surround that person as well. We are better prepared, but nothing truly can prepare a person for the potential loss of a parent. I only hope that I can be as strong of a support system for Michel as he was for me in my time of need; time will tell.
I hate to end this post on such a negative tone; but in order to have good days, we must first suffer through the bad ones so that we have something of which to compare them. Relatively speaking, this was a good day - if for no other reason than I was here to see it arrive.
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
What ever happened to So-and-So....
My apologies for the the delay in adding the second post from my "brilliant" weekend. My washing machine decided to retire in the middle of a load of towels, and I've been spending my spare time researching a replacement. There are entirely too many choices out there, but I finally made a decision and the new one will be delivered on Saturday. Good thing too - as I'm about out of clean clothes and no one wants to see me running around town starkers!
During my wonderful holiday weekend, the topic of "first loves" came up during our family picnic. I think my sister-in-law "B" brought up the subject, as she and my brother "N" are/were high-school sweethearts. That conversation sparked a curiosity in me, as I have often wondered what ever happened to Daniel, my first "love". Once or twice in the past, I had tried to look him up just to see where he was, but never with any luck. I won't try to kid you or myself into thinking the curiosity was purely innocent. When Daniel and I split, I was still relatively young at the tender age of 23. We did not split amongst a great argument, infidelity or some other nefarious reasoning. We were two people who were at different stages in our lives - I was young, naive and just starting out; he was eight years older than me, and quite a bit more jaded in his opinions and outlook on life. I wanted him to love, a house, the picket fence - the whole nine yards. Looking back, I know that Daniel did love me, and he showed that love in his own way. At the time, he could not commit to any thing more and I was unwilling to settle for any thing less. Daniel had not come from a loving family like mine, and love and affection were not emotions to which he was accustomed; he was uncomfortable with the thought of being loved and he was hesitant to proclaim his love for me. Through many mutual tears, we parted ways. Daniel offered his friendship to me, but I refused to take it. I was too hurt and full of selfish pride at the time to understand that our break-up was difficult for him as well. I have long regretted not keeping in touch with him and after the "first love" conversation topic, I thought I would try one more time to find Daniel.
The next day, I did a quick look on FaceBook, searching Daniel's name. And boom - there he was. His surname is very unique, and there was no doubt in my mind that the FaceBook Daniel and my Daniel were one in the same. I stared at the "Friend Request" button for what seemed like hours. I had not given much thought to what I would actually do once I did find him. The moment of truth had come - had I matured enough emotionally to reconnect with him? I knew and know that I was secure enough in my relationship with Michel that reconnecting with Daniel would not bother Michel at all; we are friends with his "first love". I admit, I had butterflies in my stomach when I sent the request along with a short note. It had been almost 18 years since I had last seen Daniel, and 15 years since we had last spoken. I closed off the computer and went to distract myself with the garden.
Daniel accepted the request, and sent back a note as well. We continued to exchange emails through out the day, and I finally gave him my phone number and told him to use it, but to be mindful of the three hour time difference, which I am sure resulted in a chuckle on his behalf. The next day, Daniel called. I honestly do not know if I expected him to call or if I hoped he would call, but in the end after all of these years, we were finally speaking. We talked for nearly an hour, catching up on the who/what/when/where of the last two decades. Hearing his voice made it seem like only yesterday that we had parted ways; but the conversation was a good one. We shared happy memories of our time together and discussed where we were in our lives now. He is still single, living on the west coast, and is "okay" with being single; he's moving to the South West in late June, just in time for his 50th birthday. I told him all about Michel, losing Mom, the nieces & nephews, and the many other big events since our last conversation and Michel's and my plans to someday move to Colorado. Near the end of the conversation, he made the comment that I had grown to be the man he had always wished he could have been for me. I almost lost it; I still don't know why those words coming from him meant and mean so much to me. Maybe someday, I will understand the feeling.
When the phone call was over, I think I was floating on cloud nine. I was glad to have heard from Daniel, happy that he was now in a good place in his life, and most of all, I was happy about how good a life I have with Michel. Having reminisced with Daniel about the "old days", I appreciate Michel so much more the time we have together. Daniel and I agreed to keep in touch, as I apologized for not being man enough back then to accept him for who/what he was instead of how I wanted him to be. I do hope we keep in touch once he moves to his new place; but if not, at least I'll know that this time we truly did part on good terms.
I talked with Michel after the call from Daniel. I hide nothing from Michel; I told Michel all about conversation, and we continued our own discussion of "first loves" that had been sparked by my sister-in-law. Michel asked why I looked so happy, like I was glowing and my response was simple: the wound has healed. It took nearly twenty years and a one-hour phone call to be able to say those words, and mean it. And I am a better person for having experienced the wound and for finally having reached out to heal it.
During my wonderful holiday weekend, the topic of "first loves" came up during our family picnic. I think my sister-in-law "B" brought up the subject, as she and my brother "N" are/were high-school sweethearts. That conversation sparked a curiosity in me, as I have often wondered what ever happened to Daniel, my first "love". Once or twice in the past, I had tried to look him up just to see where he was, but never with any luck. I won't try to kid you or myself into thinking the curiosity was purely innocent. When Daniel and I split, I was still relatively young at the tender age of 23. We did not split amongst a great argument, infidelity or some other nefarious reasoning. We were two people who were at different stages in our lives - I was young, naive and just starting out; he was eight years older than me, and quite a bit more jaded in his opinions and outlook on life. I wanted him to love, a house, the picket fence - the whole nine yards. Looking back, I know that Daniel did love me, and he showed that love in his own way. At the time, he could not commit to any thing more and I was unwilling to settle for any thing less. Daniel had not come from a loving family like mine, and love and affection were not emotions to which he was accustomed; he was uncomfortable with the thought of being loved and he was hesitant to proclaim his love for me. Through many mutual tears, we parted ways. Daniel offered his friendship to me, but I refused to take it. I was too hurt and full of selfish pride at the time to understand that our break-up was difficult for him as well. I have long regretted not keeping in touch with him and after the "first love" conversation topic, I thought I would try one more time to find Daniel.
The next day, I did a quick look on FaceBook, searching Daniel's name. And boom - there he was. His surname is very unique, and there was no doubt in my mind that the FaceBook Daniel and my Daniel were one in the same. I stared at the "Friend Request" button for what seemed like hours. I had not given much thought to what I would actually do once I did find him. The moment of truth had come - had I matured enough emotionally to reconnect with him? I knew and know that I was secure enough in my relationship with Michel that reconnecting with Daniel would not bother Michel at all; we are friends with his "first love". I admit, I had butterflies in my stomach when I sent the request along with a short note. It had been almost 18 years since I had last seen Daniel, and 15 years since we had last spoken. I closed off the computer and went to distract myself with the garden.
Daniel accepted the request, and sent back a note as well. We continued to exchange emails through out the day, and I finally gave him my phone number and told him to use it, but to be mindful of the three hour time difference, which I am sure resulted in a chuckle on his behalf. The next day, Daniel called. I honestly do not know if I expected him to call or if I hoped he would call, but in the end after all of these years, we were finally speaking. We talked for nearly an hour, catching up on the who/what/when/where of the last two decades. Hearing his voice made it seem like only yesterday that we had parted ways; but the conversation was a good one. We shared happy memories of our time together and discussed where we were in our lives now. He is still single, living on the west coast, and is "okay" with being single; he's moving to the South West in late June, just in time for his 50th birthday. I told him all about Michel, losing Mom, the nieces & nephews, and the many other big events since our last conversation and Michel's and my plans to someday move to Colorado. Near the end of the conversation, he made the comment that I had grown to be the man he had always wished he could have been for me. I almost lost it; I still don't know why those words coming from him meant and mean so much to me. Maybe someday, I will understand the feeling.
When the phone call was over, I think I was floating on cloud nine. I was glad to have heard from Daniel, happy that he was now in a good place in his life, and most of all, I was happy about how good a life I have with Michel. Having reminisced with Daniel about the "old days", I appreciate Michel so much more the time we have together. Daniel and I agreed to keep in touch, as I apologized for not being man enough back then to accept him for who/what he was instead of how I wanted him to be. I do hope we keep in touch once he moves to his new place; but if not, at least I'll know that this time we truly did part on good terms.
I talked with Michel after the call from Daniel. I hide nothing from Michel; I told Michel all about conversation, and we continued our own discussion of "first loves" that had been sparked by my sister-in-law. Michel asked why I looked so happy, like I was glowing and my response was simple: the wound has healed. It took nearly twenty years and a one-hour phone call to be able to say those words, and mean it. And I am a better person for having experienced the wound and for finally having reached out to heal it.
Monday, June 6, 2011
High on the World
So much has occurred since my last post, I'm almost at a loss as to where I should begin. I've tried several times over the last few days to sit down and at least write a paragraph or two, but I think my adult-onset ADD kicked itself into overdrive. It is quiet here at work now, so this is as good a time as any to try and catch up. Many good things happened this past week, so I'll start with the best.
If there were just one word to describe my Memorial Day weekend, it would be "brilliant" (to quote my Harry Potter co-fanatics)! Sunday, we had a family picnic at a local park, with me & Michel, my sisters and their spouses and children, and my younger brother, sister-in-law and new niece. We invited "R", but to none of our surprise, his only response was "not coming". I put my hand out; he chose not to take it, so be it. But I didn't let that ruin the day.
The rest of us had a great time, with great food and I relished watching my nieces and nephews enjoy themselves on the playground, doing what kids do best - being carefree and innocent! I must admit that I sometimes am envious of them - to be an age where you have not a care in the world. But then again, I don't think I would trade my own life experiences to be young again. I want to believe I have learned something useful from my years on this world; and both the good and bad times have given me life lessons, whether I was aware of them at the time or not. These days, I try to look at every event in my life with a much wider-angled view, to see the big picture, to see if I truly have learned or matured.
What I learned from the family picnic was something I have always known - in the grand scheme of things, your family really is all that matters. And you can define 'family' however you so choose. I define family as the people in my life upon whom I know I can always depend, and who know they can always depend upon me. We love each other unconditionally, faults and all. Certainly we rattle each others nerves on occasion, but we're also the first ones to stand-up for one another when the chips call for it. I know I can call "Da", "De" or "N" anytime of the day or night, and each of them would answer. And I am certain that they know the same holds true on the flip side (if for no other reason than I have been explicit in stating to each of them that I will always be/am always here for them). The relationship I have with my younger siblings mirrors the relationship I always longed for with my older brother. I suppose I overcompensate a bit much sometimes, but I never want Da, De or N to feel unloved or unwanted. And my nieces and nephews will always feel loved and will always feel special. That is a gift from their grandmother and great-grandmother that I will pass on to each of them.
I'm still reeling from that day; it's amazing how good one little picnic can make you feel. That overwhelming feeling of love and happiness has carried me through the week, and spread in several unexpected directions. I'll try and post again later this evening to fill you in on the other "brilliant" things that fell into my lap last week; I'm still processing some of them and perhaps sharing them will put them in their proper place.
If there were just one word to describe my Memorial Day weekend, it would be "brilliant" (to quote my Harry Potter co-fanatics)! Sunday, we had a family picnic at a local park, with me & Michel, my sisters and their spouses and children, and my younger brother, sister-in-law and new niece. We invited "R", but to none of our surprise, his only response was "not coming". I put my hand out; he chose not to take it, so be it. But I didn't let that ruin the day.
The rest of us had a great time, with great food and I relished watching my nieces and nephews enjoy themselves on the playground, doing what kids do best - being carefree and innocent! I must admit that I sometimes am envious of them - to be an age where you have not a care in the world. But then again, I don't think I would trade my own life experiences to be young again. I want to believe I have learned something useful from my years on this world; and both the good and bad times have given me life lessons, whether I was aware of them at the time or not. These days, I try to look at every event in my life with a much wider-angled view, to see the big picture, to see if I truly have learned or matured.
What I learned from the family picnic was something I have always known - in the grand scheme of things, your family really is all that matters. And you can define 'family' however you so choose. I define family as the people in my life upon whom I know I can always depend, and who know they can always depend upon me. We love each other unconditionally, faults and all. Certainly we rattle each others nerves on occasion, but we're also the first ones to stand-up for one another when the chips call for it. I know I can call "Da", "De" or "N" anytime of the day or night, and each of them would answer. And I am certain that they know the same holds true on the flip side (if for no other reason than I have been explicit in stating to each of them that I will always be/am always here for them). The relationship I have with my younger siblings mirrors the relationship I always longed for with my older brother. I suppose I overcompensate a bit much sometimes, but I never want Da, De or N to feel unloved or unwanted. And my nieces and nephews will always feel loved and will always feel special. That is a gift from their grandmother and great-grandmother that I will pass on to each of them.
I'm still reeling from that day; it's amazing how good one little picnic can make you feel. That overwhelming feeling of love and happiness has carried me through the week, and spread in several unexpected directions. I'll try and post again later this evening to fill you in on the other "brilliant" things that fell into my lap last week; I'm still processing some of them and perhaps sharing them will put them in their proper place.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
A Little Family Background...
In response to my newest follower, Naturgesetz (his blog), I thought it would be appropriate to give a quick run down on my family, so as this blog progresses you will know how the players fit into the puzzle. And today is a good day to share my family links, as my "baby brother" and his wife are expecting their first child today, so my family continues to grow. You might want to grab a pen and paper to start your own flow chart - my family connections confuse most people, and a good cup of coffee might not be a bad idea.
To start, I am the 2nd oldest of fourteen. You read that correctly, 14 children. But before your jaw completely hits the floor, I must explain that not all of us are biologically related. I only share DNA with four of my siblings; the other nine are adopted. And in the interest of brevity, I will list them here from oldest to youngest, how we are related, and the status of our relationship. (To keep their anonymity, I will use the first letter of their names to identify them; in cases of duplicate letters, I will add a second to help you keep track.)
"R" - older (also gay) brother, and the only sibling with whom I share both mother and father. He has recently been diagnosed with Stage 4 Colon Cancer. From the day of my birth, our relationship has been tenuous at best.
Scott - that would be me.
"Da" - sister and twin to "De"; their father was my first step-father. We share the same mother. We were not close growing up, but have grown very close in our adult years. She has given me four wonderful nieces/nephews whom I spoil every chance I get.
"De" - sister and twin to "Da" and also shares the same mother. Growing up, I always felt a special bond with "De". As adults, I think we are as close as any two siblings can be, growing much closer after the loss of our mother. In 2009, she blessed me with my youngest nephew and we have begun spending annual vacations together in the spring.
"C" - adopted brother. Mom was a foster parent, and throughout my life, I have always had at least one foster sibling. "C" was the first, brought to us when he was just 7 months old. While with us, two different families had chosen to adopt him, but for whatever reason, they backed away. When "C" was 6 or 7, Mom called up his case-worker and began the process to make him a permanent member of our family.
"N" - brother. We share the same father and "N" was born the weekend of my Confirmation. It was a tough decision not to come home from college for his birth, but one I do not regret. There is a 20 year age difference between us, and though he is straight, married and about to have his first child, the two of us are very much alike. We are often referred to as "Dick Jr. 1" and "Dick Jr. 2", in reference to being so similar to our father. We occasionally get together for dinner and our relationship has grown stronger as we have aged.
"T" - adopted sister. Mom and my second step-father adopted "T", as well as her biological siblings 11 years ago (Ma, Ph, & Pa). Mom couldn't stand the thought of the four of them being separated and she lovingly brought them all into the family. "T" is also 21, and currently engaged.
"Ma" - adopted brother. Biological to "T". Currently out on his own and has re-connected with his biological mother. After his reconnection to her, he has written off his adopted family.
"Mi" - adopted brother. "Mi" was part of a set of siblings Mom had fostered when "Mi" was just a baby. After 2 years, "Mi" and his biological siblings were returned to their bio-parents. That reunion did not last, and "Mi" returned to our family and he too was made a permanent addition.
"A" - adopted sister. A was/is an extremely troubled child. She had been abused in so many unspeakable ways, that it kills me to know a person could do that to a child. No one else would even consider taking her; but Mom did. And Mom made great progress with "A". Unfortunately, after Mom died, "A" regressed severely and turned violent. My step-father and DFACS chose to institutionalize her. I have tried to reach out to her, but as she is still a minor, now in the State's care, I have been denied any access to her through my step-father's machinations.
"Ph" - adopted brother. Biological to T and Ma. He, too, has issues stemming from his abuse/neglect from his biological family. He has, however, made great strides in overcoming those obstacles and is on track to graduate from high school next year.
"Pa" - adopted brother. Biological to T, Ma & Ph. "Pa" was only 1-month old when he and his siblings were brought to Mom; she always had an extra soft spot for baby boys. (I speak from personal experience.) Out of all of biological siblings, he has the least amount of symptoms from his bio-mother's extensive drug use, and fortunately, he never suffered from neglect; Mom made sure of that. He is an honor-roll student and is becoming a fine young man.
"Ant & And" - adopted brothers; identical twins. Their bio-mother actually chose Mom to adopt them, before they were even born. Mom took special pride in them - her second set of twins. I have a special connection to them - we were all "Momma's boys". When Mom realized that there was no Earthly-cure for her cancer, she asked Michel and I if we would take "Ant & And" and raise them. After much consideration, we agreed; and after Mom's passing, my step-father refused to honor my mother's wish and his promise to her. A few months after her funeral, when I expressed concern to my step-father about moving the boys after school had begun, he sought legal action and had a restraining order placed upon me. I am not allowed to see, or even communicate with "Ant & And". I'm not even allowed within yards of my Mother's home (a plot of land she inherited from my grandparents). Fortunately, my aunt lives a few acres down from there, and I do get to see the twins from a distance when I visit her. My aunt keeps me up to date on how the boys are doing, as much as she can. She tells me that they now have a relationship with their biological grandmother, and from my understanding, it is a very healthy, nurturing relationship. Last year, I had a chance run-in with "And" at my cousin's high school graduation. He came right up to me, hugged me, and we had a long conversation, with him filling me in on everything in his life. As he walked me back to my car, I kept looking over my shoulder for my step-father, fortunately no where to be seen; I cried all the way home on that 2-hour drive. Every year I send "Ant" & "And" birthday cards, Christmas gifts, etc. I have no idea if they have ever receive them, but I will keep sending them.
Not so brief as I had planned, but that gives you an idea of some of the people who are important to me. It's a large group with some very strong and loving connections. I'm sure I'll be mentioning them all again at some point, because if there is one thing that I have learned about family, it is this - they will always be a part of you.
To start, I am the 2nd oldest of fourteen. You read that correctly, 14 children. But before your jaw completely hits the floor, I must explain that not all of us are biologically related. I only share DNA with four of my siblings; the other nine are adopted. And in the interest of brevity, I will list them here from oldest to youngest, how we are related, and the status of our relationship. (To keep their anonymity, I will use the first letter of their names to identify them; in cases of duplicate letters, I will add a second to help you keep track.)
"R" - older (also gay) brother, and the only sibling with whom I share both mother and father. He has recently been diagnosed with Stage 4 Colon Cancer. From the day of my birth, our relationship has been tenuous at best.
Scott - that would be me.
"Da" - sister and twin to "De"; their father was my first step-father. We share the same mother. We were not close growing up, but have grown very close in our adult years. She has given me four wonderful nieces/nephews whom I spoil every chance I get.
"De" - sister and twin to "Da" and also shares the same mother. Growing up, I always felt a special bond with "De". As adults, I think we are as close as any two siblings can be, growing much closer after the loss of our mother. In 2009, she blessed me with my youngest nephew and we have begun spending annual vacations together in the spring.
"C" - adopted brother. Mom was a foster parent, and throughout my life, I have always had at least one foster sibling. "C" was the first, brought to us when he was just 7 months old. While with us, two different families had chosen to adopt him, but for whatever reason, they backed away. When "C" was 6 or 7, Mom called up his case-worker and began the process to make him a permanent member of our family.
"N" - brother. We share the same father and "N" was born the weekend of my Confirmation. It was a tough decision not to come home from college for his birth, but one I do not regret. There is a 20 year age difference between us, and though he is straight, married and about to have his first child, the two of us are very much alike. We are often referred to as "Dick Jr. 1" and "Dick Jr. 2", in reference to being so similar to our father. We occasionally get together for dinner and our relationship has grown stronger as we have aged.
"T" - adopted sister. Mom and my second step-father adopted "T", as well as her biological siblings 11 years ago (Ma, Ph, & Pa). Mom couldn't stand the thought of the four of them being separated and she lovingly brought them all into the family. "T" is also 21, and currently engaged.
"Ma" - adopted brother. Biological to "T". Currently out on his own and has re-connected with his biological mother. After his reconnection to her, he has written off his adopted family.
"Mi" - adopted brother. "Mi" was part of a set of siblings Mom had fostered when "Mi" was just a baby. After 2 years, "Mi" and his biological siblings were returned to their bio-parents. That reunion did not last, and "Mi" returned to our family and he too was made a permanent addition.
"A" - adopted sister. A was/is an extremely troubled child. She had been abused in so many unspeakable ways, that it kills me to know a person could do that to a child. No one else would even consider taking her; but Mom did. And Mom made great progress with "A". Unfortunately, after Mom died, "A" regressed severely and turned violent. My step-father and DFACS chose to institutionalize her. I have tried to reach out to her, but as she is still a minor, now in the State's care, I have been denied any access to her through my step-father's machinations.
"Ph" - adopted brother. Biological to T and Ma. He, too, has issues stemming from his abuse/neglect from his biological family. He has, however, made great strides in overcoming those obstacles and is on track to graduate from high school next year.
"Pa" - adopted brother. Biological to T, Ma & Ph. "Pa" was only 1-month old when he and his siblings were brought to Mom; she always had an extra soft spot for baby boys. (I speak from personal experience.) Out of all of biological siblings, he has the least amount of symptoms from his bio-mother's extensive drug use, and fortunately, he never suffered from neglect; Mom made sure of that. He is an honor-roll student and is becoming a fine young man.
"Ant & And" - adopted brothers; identical twins. Their bio-mother actually chose Mom to adopt them, before they were even born. Mom took special pride in them - her second set of twins. I have a special connection to them - we were all "Momma's boys". When Mom realized that there was no Earthly-cure for her cancer, she asked Michel and I if we would take "Ant & And" and raise them. After much consideration, we agreed; and after Mom's passing, my step-father refused to honor my mother's wish and his promise to her. A few months after her funeral, when I expressed concern to my step-father about moving the boys after school had begun, he sought legal action and had a restraining order placed upon me. I am not allowed to see, or even communicate with "Ant & And". I'm not even allowed within yards of my Mother's home (a plot of land she inherited from my grandparents). Fortunately, my aunt lives a few acres down from there, and I do get to see the twins from a distance when I visit her. My aunt keeps me up to date on how the boys are doing, as much as she can. She tells me that they now have a relationship with their biological grandmother, and from my understanding, it is a very healthy, nurturing relationship. Last year, I had a chance run-in with "And" at my cousin's high school graduation. He came right up to me, hugged me, and we had a long conversation, with him filling me in on everything in his life. As he walked me back to my car, I kept looking over my shoulder for my step-father, fortunately no where to be seen; I cried all the way home on that 2-hour drive. Every year I send "Ant" & "And" birthday cards, Christmas gifts, etc. I have no idea if they have ever receive them, but I will keep sending them.
Not so brief as I had planned, but that gives you an idea of some of the people who are important to me. It's a large group with some very strong and loving connections. I'm sure I'll be mentioning them all again at some point, because if there is one thing that I have learned about family, it is this - they will always be a part of you.
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