This is Kevin
This is your sister.
pause . . . . (while I pull over with out wrecking the truck)
She tells me this story; when I was little, you and I were playing together, and I overheard all the Aunts saying “Wow they look just alike”. I was at your Uncles house and we were playing in the front room. I remembered that and asked my Mom one day. Do I have a brother? Mom said; “Yeeuup” (That’s Maine talk for yes)
(How is it that the whole world knows I’m adopted but I don’t?)
She continues; twenty years ago we were getting ready to have a family reunion and I tried to get in touch with you. I contacted your Mom. (Oh?) She talked me out of contacting you at the time. (Oh?)
Later, as I was putting pieces of the puzzle together, I thought back to a phone call I made to my Mom as I was traveling on the East coast. I drove from Virginia to Maine. As I entered my birth town I realized I didn’t know what to look at, what to take a picture of.
Mom, where did we live, where was I born, do you want me to take any pictures while I’m here? I don’t remember the answers but that must have made her very uncomfortable about the secret. I’m sorry for that.
Big sister and I talked for about 30 seconds (actually about an hour and a half) before I said my battery was getting ready to die. Damn cell phones.
Then she says, oh by the way, you have another
To Be Continued . . . . . . .