I turned to Mom.
“I have a son of my own, and now I find out he has cousins? And you knew all along?”
“We were protecting our family.”
“You were protecting yourselves.”
Mom started crying.
You knew all along?
“You taught me history matters. Why did you erase mine?”
“I was afraid of losing my daughter.”
“Well, you nearly did.”
I swallowed.
“Did Dad regret it?”
You were protecting yourselves.
“Terribly. He wrote you a letter before he died.”
“The envelope you were looking for?”
She nodded. “I couldn’t bring myself to give it to you.”
“Get it, Mom.”
She returned with a sealed envelope.
Even after his death, Dad had one final truth waiting for me.
He wrote you a letter.
I opened it.
“Dad tried to find Michael?”
“During his final months. He got sick before he could.”
I read his words.
“I spent twenty years afraid of losing my daughter. Now I’m afraid I’ve stolen twenty years from her.”
Dad had one final truth.
“He wanted me to finish what he started.”
“Can you forgive us?”
“I don’t know. I love you, but I need time.”
Michael touched my shoulder. “Take all you need.”
I looked at Mom. “Things can’t go back to how they were.”
I’ve stolen twenty years from her.
“I understand, sweetheart.”
For once, I left without comforting her.
***
Three weeks later, I called Michael.
“Want to come over?”
“Really?”
“We’ve lost enough time.”
I left without comforting her.
***
That Saturday, Michael brought childhood photos.
“You used to steal my shoes.”
“Sounds like me.”
We laughed.
Mom and I kept talking, too. “Will things ever be the same?”
We’ve lost enough time.
“No. But we can be honest.”
She reached for my hand. I let her.
Later, I added everyone to my family tree.
- Eleanor.
- George.
- Michael.
- Our biological parents.
All of them belonged.
The past could explain where I came from. But it would never again decide who I was allowed to call family.
THE ENE.!
