The Family Name

If you have read all my posts you know I was adopted by my namesake. My birth name and my natural father were both inconstant with the truth of my life.  My Mother existed in an age where women were judged by the men in their lives, rather than the life in their lives. She wanted desperately for me to have a name that matched hers; social stigma being what it was. This meant any man that married her had to adopt me. It was part of the bargain she made with herself and her ethos. 

Speed now through a seventy two year odyssey of life that included teenage years in trouble with the law; a stint in the Marine Corps; and a wandering period that took me from Indiana to the Virgin Islands to southern California. Tired of odd jobs and living off girlfriends, I went to school on the GI Bill - Software Programmer. It was a new thing back then.

In the 50 years that followed I have made and lost a million dollars at least twice; had two successful small companies; received a Master Degree in IT Management; and had three great kids. I still do consulting to Fortune 100 companies today. I've done ok.

Thank's mom. 

I also had three failed marriages and a couple bankruptcies. No one's perfect.

Back in 1968, after I returned home from the Marines, mother told me who my natural father was. By that time he had four daughters. Apparently I was his only son. She spoke at length about how they met. The aftermath. The pain she endured. Her decisions. And even though it had been 21 years - I could tell she still carried a torch. It was quite a story. She told me all this in one hour, on one day, and never spoke of it again.

Fast forward to 2018 and we find a seventy two year old man that had always wondered who were the people in his 'other' family.  A new process that allowed DNA analysis might be the tool to find missing relatives. I wondered: Who are they? Did they ever find out about me? Do they have kids that are my half-nephews, etc? Were they good people? Were they happy? Did they need help? Were they even still alive? And what ever happened to my real dad?

I submitted my DNA test to both of the leading DNA testing companies at the time. When I got the results back, I found nothing. No close matches in either. Well, it was a long shot anyway.

Then after about a year, in the summer of 2019, I received an update on one of my DNA result reports. I had a "close 1st cousin with 1,700+ matching strands".  That's almost exactly what a half-sibling would see. 

I won't list names or identifying information here, but suffice to say that discovery started a series of blind emails, texts and high hopes that culminated in me finding my four sisters.  The resemblance is unmistakable. Two of my sisters and I were preparing to meet for the first time. 

Ok - So why am I posting this in a "Fixing America" blog? What does this personal tidbit have to do with anything?

Well, before our scheduled first meeting, I received an interrogatory request from the sisters via text message. The four questions were, in this order:

1. Did I have any other brothers or sisters? (not 'Do you have any children...' - not sure why this one - since they would share no DNA with my mother's other offspring)

2. Am I a Trump Supporter? (yes - that's the second most important question after 72 years)

3. Am I a Christian? (more important than my service record, but not as important as Trump support)

4. How long was I in the Marines? 

So this is america today. Of course I'm going to tell them that their long lost brother is NOT a Trump supporter and NOT a Christian, and both my other half-sister and half-brother are long gone.  

I'll miss that reunion.

However, I am proud of the four years in the Marines. And I am proud of America. I just wished we once again lived in an America where the questions were different.

JWB

UPDATE: My sister responded: They don't care about my beliefs, they are still anxious to meet their only brother! See, there IS hope left for America. We are all good people at heart.