So, Oprah Has A Half-Sister

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Well, me too.  It didn’t take me fifty years to meet my sister though, only twenty-one.  Because I have had the chance to meet my sister this way, I’m always fascinated by how other people deal with this kind of information.  I noticed that Oprah had questions for her mother.  Questions that revolved around how the baby came to be and why she was adopted out.  Questions with fairly obvious answers if you consider the times during which the adoption happened.

I never had those questions.  Maybe I never had them because my mum volunteered information.  Maybe I never had them because I don’t care.  How my sister came to be adopted is not the best part of the story.  How she came back, is the bit I like.  The fact that she remains, is my favourite thing yet.

I visited my sister recently, and, typical of us, we spent the entire time laughing, joking and telling stories.  For me, being around Jules is like taking a giant big lungful of laughing gas.  Not because she’s a clown (although she is pretty funny), mostly because just being around her makes me inordinately happy, joyous even.    I’m thrilled, every time, that I get to be around her. Is it some kind of hero worship that I would have gotten over had we grown up together?  Maybe, she is pretty heroic.  Is it that I now have a possible genetic match should I ever need a bone graft or a kidney transplant?  Hmmm.  Is it because when I’m with her, I get to be the younger sibling?  It is kinda nice.

Whatever the reason, I love it and I have no further questions.

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