Despite being raised as an only child, I recently learned that I have four siblings I never knew about—two half-brothers and two half-sisters who live states away. My upbringing was shaped by my mother and me, as my father was often absent. He was originally from Florida but moved to the Midwest with my mom shortly after my birth. By the time I was three, he returned to Florida, leaving us behind.
For much of my childhood, I had no way to reach him. Birthdays and holidays came and went without a single call or message. My mom made several attempts to locate him over the years, and after a four-year silence, she finally found his number. However, the person who answered was not my father but a babysitter who inadvertently revealed the existence of my siblings—one of whom is older than me by six years.
My father’s life choices were far from honorable. He had cheated on my mom with her best friend, leading to the birth of a sister who remains unaware of her true parentage. This “friend” had a husband who could not have children, and they raised my sister under the false belief that he was her biological father. Learning about this as an adult was shocking, and I often wonder whether she deserves to know the truth, despite its potential pain. The thought of having to reveal to her that I had known all along is daunting.
Nevertheless, when I consider the contrast between our father and her dad, I choose to let her live in the illusion of a loving family. She doesn’t have to experience the emptiness of not receiving gifts on Christmas while others do, nor does she have to bear the weight of a fragmented family dynamic. Her dad has given her the love and stability that my siblings and I lacked, and I wouldn’t want to disrupt that.
While I have love for my siblings from a distance, the absence of a personal connection leaves a void in my life. I often find myself pondering the bond we could have shared if circumstances had allowed. The estrangement was never our fault, and it’s painful to think of the memories we missed out on together.
Though we occasionally make tentative plans to meet, they often fall through. We exchange awkward “I love you” messages that feel obligatory but true. Now that many of us have children, I long for my kids to experience the joy of growing up with cousins running around, but the distance between our lives—nearly a thousand miles—makes that impossible.
In the end, we exist in parallel worlds, connected by blood yet separated by time and circumstance. Despite this, I still hold love for my siblings and hope to connect with them one day. For now, I will cherish them from afar.
This article was originally published on Sep. 24, 2019.
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Summary:
The author reflects on discovering four siblings—two half-brothers and two half-sisters—whom she never knew about due to her father’s absence. Despite the emotional challenges of estrangement, she chooses to love them from a distance, prioritizing their well-being over revealing the complicated truths of their family history.