This picture was taken the day Julie became my sister. That’s weird to say since I am 8 years younger, but that picture is how I got her as a sister. It’s a big deal to me and the few times I have actually seen it, I have smiled ear to ear. It’s when my story began and I wasn’t even born yet! My beautiful mother probably grimaces at this picture being on the world wide web but it’s the beginning of a wonderful life I am blessed to live with my sister.
Some of you are picking your jaw up off your screen about right now, and let me just say, close your mouth! Many have no clue she was not biologically his. We are not shy about it anymore. It tells of a great love and is a testament to the man he was. He did not talk about it because he saw no need. She was always his just the same as me. I always loved when people would say they looked alike. Daddy always said “Osmosis is a wonderful thing.” Growing up in the 70’s and 80’s, no one shared their business like they do now. We didn’t report on everything we did, much less how we groomed our families into who they are today. I sort of miss those quieter times, yet I don’t miss the shame of transparency.
My sister was such a loved little girl she got a new daddy when she was 3. He loved my mama so much he never thought anything different than sister being his own. I showed up 5 years later and completed the circle. Back in those days no one talked about this. I was 8 years old when I found out the truth and I lived with these sweet people! I thought we were unicorns. I held that secret tight and if you knew me as a child, I talked all the time. I never told a soul until I got older. The funny thing about this, I married into a family that did the same thing. Such a comfort to know we were alike. It was actually common but we couldn’t admit it back then. Can you imagine that being concealed in this day and time? Everyone knows when you sneeze, much less divorce with a baby, get married again and your husband adopts your child. They would throw them a block party these days and shout it from the streets with confetti cannons. It makes me ponder the shame of keeping a secret at present time in contrast of the shame of truth back then. Heavy thoughts, but like i said, this is my story, I get to think about these things!
Social media tells me its national siblings day. I am pretty sure thats just a made up day to get our information saved to a database of some sort but I take any day I can to appreciate the sister I have and where she came from. She came from love. Lots and lots of love. I am so thankful she loves freely and shares that love with me. Our parents raised us in a wonderful Christian home and for that I will forever be grateful. We have never been called “half sisters” and if anyone ever did I am certain one of us at the Skutt table would have punched their lights out. No halves here. Our nuclear family story did not have a fairytale ending yet the journey has been testimony to how our Savior makes such beauty from a heap of ashes. I am so thankful for life with this precious little old sister of mine!
P.S. I think I am becoming my mother…do you see it?!