I have updated my "About Me" page. Check it out here.
In it, I call my step-mother a "harlot" and my half-sister "evil spawn." I am sure they aren't really those things. Not anymore.
I was too young to understand what was going on when my parents divorced. In fact, I don't have any memories of my dad at home in Canada at all. All I do know is my half-sister is a mere three years younger than me. I can only assume from this evidence that my dad took a brief moment to welcome shiny new me into the world, then promptly fell into the arms of the harlot and GOT BUSY.
Actually, I don't think he rejected me like that, but it cracked me up when I wrote it so there it is. Be sure to pronounce "got busy" as "got biz-ay" when you read it. It's much funnier that way.
I have mixed feelings about the evil spawn, although I'm pretty sure you can tell which way I'm leaning on that one. We were so close in age it didn't occur to me to reach out and keep in touch as we were growing up. Most of that is due to the fact that she was a spoiled, snotty baby the last time I saw her at age four. Until she came along, I had been the spoiled, snotty baby and I was not happy about being usurped. By the time I was mature enough to realize she was effectively an only child and might enjoy having siblings, I was almost thirty.
About that time, she contacted my mother asking for pictures of my dad when he was a young man. She contacted my mom through her mom because, of course, the two of them keep in touch.
Yeah.
Perhaps this is a good time to tell you a little bit about my mother. My mother worships at the altar of History, drinks from the cup of Genealogy, and holds all things Family sacred (regardless of how far removed the relationship may be). She keeps in touch for the sake of her children, so we won't lose track of our half-sister.
At my mother's prompting (always humor the crazy people), I wrote the evil spawn a letter updating her on my life so far and asking what she was up to. I didn't think of her as the evil spawn then. I was excited at the prospect of getting to know my little sister. So I sent the standard getting back in touch fare and received...no response. A month or so later, I followed up with a humorous greeting card saying I'd love to hear from her. Response? Nada. Zip. Nothin'.
What is UP with that? I tried again several years later using an email address I got from her mother. No reply and yet no bounce. OKAY. I GET IT. YOU DON'T WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH ME. FINE. I made the effort. My conscience is clear. But here is what I want to know: why didn't she contact our father's side of the family for pictures of him? If you had a choice between contacting your blood relatives (aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents) or the woman your father cheated on and then dumped after nineteen years of marriage to be with your mother, which would you choose? To date, the workings of the evil spawn's mind remain a mystery to me.
Family: I do so love the dysfunction.
