TaerTime: Heart's Aches 1: Father and Mother
I'll start with the worst heart-ache. I'll put more out here than I ever did before, but it'll be for a good reason. Hopefully, it'll be enough to find the right person, but not enough to make me the target of every crank and prankster (or worse) out there.
I've a half-sister, Bonnie. She was born March 3, 1960. I knew of her existence about when I was 12 or so, but didn't think much about it. She was my half-sister from my father Jesse's first marriage. I never heard anyone talk about her in front of me, just snippets that I wasn't supposed to hear.
After I was married, my mother asked me to disinter my father's ashes from the columbarium at Green-Wood Cemetery, in Brooklyn, NYC, where we lived at the time he passed away in January, 1972. At the time, I didn't think about my half-sister. Actually, I hardly ever thought of her, much less talk about her.
A few years after that, SpouseKitty received a call from someone claiming to be my sister, asking "Please tell me where my is father buried?" SK gave the caller my phone number, then rang off, thinking the call could be a ruse. I never received a call, so when SK told me about it, I shrugged, and promptly forgot about it.
Skip forward to yesterday. I called Mrs. Yee, one of my family's oldest and closest friends in NYC, to tell her that my mother is going to be in a convalescent hospital (read: nursing home) for the rest of her time, so I'm closing her affairs at her apartment, including her phone number.
That's when Mrs. Yee told me about Bonnie. About how my father showed Mrs. Yee the gifts he'd secretly send to my sister, for fear of my mother's ire. About how my mother denied Bonnie attendance to my father's funeral (in NYC's Chinatown, of course.)
Last night, I arrived home, and talked about this (and other matters) to SpouseKitty, who thankfully remembered Bonnie's call. That's when I realized how hurtful my mother was.
I know this has all the makings of an internet sob story. If you think that, please don't read any further. If not, could you forward this on in hopes it finds Bonnie? Have her email me at taerkitty at gmail.
I've a half-sister, Bonnie. She was born March 3, 1960. I knew of her existence about when I was 12 or so, but didn't think much about it. She was my half-sister from my father Jesse's first marriage. I never heard anyone talk about her in front of me, just snippets that I wasn't supposed to hear.
After I was married, my mother asked me to disinter my father's ashes from the columbarium at Green-Wood Cemetery, in Brooklyn, NYC, where we lived at the time he passed away in January, 1972. At the time, I didn't think about my half-sister. Actually, I hardly ever thought of her, much less talk about her.
A few years after that, SpouseKitty received a call from someone claiming to be my sister, asking "Please tell me where my is father buried?" SK gave the caller my phone number, then rang off, thinking the call could be a ruse. I never received a call, so when SK told me about it, I shrugged, and promptly forgot about it.
Skip forward to yesterday. I called Mrs. Yee, one of my family's oldest and closest friends in NYC, to tell her that my mother is going to be in a convalescent hospital (read: nursing home) for the rest of her time, so I'm closing her affairs at her apartment, including her phone number.
That's when Mrs. Yee told me about Bonnie. About how my father showed Mrs. Yee the gifts he'd secretly send to my sister, for fear of my mother's ire. About how my mother denied Bonnie attendance to my father's funeral (in NYC's Chinatown, of course.)
Last night, I arrived home, and talked about this (and other matters) to SpouseKitty, who thankfully remembered Bonnie's call. That's when I realized how hurtful my mother was.
I know this has all the makings of an internet sob story. If you think that, please don't read any further. If not, could you forward this on in hopes it finds Bonnie? Have her email me at taerkitty at gmail.
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