Sisters: Better Late Than Never!

It was not until I was 32 that I met my two sisters. As noted in previous articles, we were, along with three brothers, taken from our parents when I was 2 years old. Thus, it was an entirely new experience for me.

I have found that having sisters brings both joy and heartache. First and foremost, I found that although we came from the same stock, we are vastly different in so many ways. I was the only one in the family to be adopted, so I had a number of benefits that they did not. For instance, I went to college and took a six-week trip to Europe.
Those are things that my sisters could only dream about. They remained in foster care until they were 16 and then had to make their own way in the world. As a result, they became not only toughened by their experiences, but also somewhat resentful and angry at the world for all they've had to endure.

When I first learned family members were trying to reach me, I was in Windsor, Ontario. Parent Finders, which I had joined at least 10 years earlier, called out of the blue one day to say that a sister had called asking about me. Nancy, who is a few years older than me lived in Hamilton, as did my other sister Freda, brother Gordon and a number of nieces and nephews. My other brother, Ron was further north in Wawa and my third brother, Harvey had passed over from cancer. I was also informed that my mother had died and the whereabouts of my father was unknown.

I immediately made plans to travel to Hamilton, along with my two daughters. When I arrived at Nancy's apartment, I quickly realized that I used to live in the building right next to her when I first married. It was quite the reunion as everyone was there, except my other sister, Freda. They even got the media involved and they showed us on the evening news.

Regardless of any differences, Nancy and I got along right away. She served coffee and filled me in on some of the family history. To be honest, I was quite overwhelmed by all of these new people who were suddenly a part of my life. I was also concerned as to why Freda was not there and quickly realized that all was not peaches and cream with them. Certain siblings were not talking to other siblings for various reasons and Freda had refused to be a part of what she called "a media circus" upon my arrival.

Intent on meeting her anyway, I asked my niece to drive me to her apartment. When Freda opened the door, I thought she was going to have a heart attack – we looked so much alike! We also talked over coffee and she filled me in from her side of things. I also got to see a lot of pictures and for the very first time in my life – I saw my mother!

It was a thrilling experience, but as I said, very overwhelming. When I returned to Windsor two days later, I had an awful lot of new information to digest. For instance, I'd always wanted to learn to play the piano. It turned out that my mother played. I couldn't wait to see everyone again, so I invited them all down to Windsor to stay with me for a few days.

Over the next year, I learned a lot, particularly about myself. Finally, I had roots – a foundation, a point of reference for myself. This seemed to give me a new attitude that was much more self-assured and people really noticed the change in me. I also learned what it was like to have sisters to talk to and share life's experiences with.
The most difficult part, however, was realizing how very different we were. While I was always rather shy, petite and demure, Nancy and Freda thought nothing of getting into a barroom brawl. It was quite shocking, but I guess they had learned the hard way to defend themselves. I hate confrontation of any kind, but out and out fighting was not even an option in my mind. They also loved to drink and often got out of control, whereas I was always careful about how much alcohol I consumed. It's interesting, I guess, because my parents were apparently drinking and fighting when the children's aid came to take us all away. I simply saw no point in such behavior.

Despite this, I realized why they were this way and tried to get along. In fact, we have had some wonderful times together – talking and laughing into the wee hours of the morning. Now that we are all much older – I am 57 in November, Nancy is 59 and Freda, 62 – life has changed for each of us. Nancy has settled right down and we get along wonderfully. Freda, however, has turned to the other extreme. She is quite the self-righteous Bible thumper who is angry that the rest of the family will not follow in her lead. Though I'm happy that she no longer drinks, I miss her wonderful sense of humor and the many good times we shared together. Right now, she is not speaking with either Nancy or me, which breaks my heart.

Needless to say, having sisters has been and continues to be quite the experience and regardless of the problems, I'm happy that I finally found them.