 July 4, 1994 No denying the resemblance! With Joyce at my first family reunion (where I met 63 'new' relatives in one fell swoop... totally sober!) My T-shirt reads NEW & IMPROVED while the back reads HAVE YOUR PICTURE TAKEN WITH THE ORPHAN - $5! MAKES A GREAT GIFT!
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This 'N' That... Mostly That. My birthmother is one of eleven children. My birthfather is one of seven. Joyce's mother is one of seventeen and her father is one of nineteen. I have a cat. A neutered cat. Both came from large families. Joyce was forced to give two of her own children away by her family and uncaring social workers. Then after all was said and done her family would never talk about it again...at least not to her. Sure, they gossiped behind her back, but do you think that any of them would go to her and ask, "Are you OK? Do you want to talk about it?" When I was born she spoke on the telephone with her mother. "Oh, please, Mommy, let me keep my baby!" she pleaded. Her mother, a devout Christian, warmly responded, "Shhh. This is a party line." End of discussion. Makes one all warm and fuzzy doesn't it? One of her younger sisters, upon hearing Joyce was pregnant with her first child, exclaimed, "She's disgraced the family!" I bet this woman would be a blast at a lynching... Amidst all of the coldness there was one person to whom she could talk: her husband, Jack. She told him of both of her 'lost boys' and he never once thought any differently of her. They had grown up together. He had obviously had a special place in his heart for her as he proposed on the third date. He adopted Becky and loved her and cared for her from the beginning. They then had two children, Jacqueline and James. Although their family was a happy one, Joyce didn't feel complete. She would go into a deep depression when either of our birthdays would approach. She would day dream about throwing birthday parties for her boys. One year, however, she was busier than usual as my brother's autumn birthday rolled around and she totally forgot. Two days later it hit her that she had missed it. She jumped in her car and drove to the peaceful seclusion of the riverbank. There she sat and cried as she begged her baby to forgive her. Jack didn't join his wife and children when I met them. He thought it would be best if we met without him. However, he called me that day and he told me that I was welcome in his home at any time. "My home is your home," he said. I met him face-to-face the following July. When I pulled up to their house all eleven of Joyce's siblings, and their families were there. Sixty three people. All are obviously horny, fertile folk... As everyone began to swarm upon me Joyce screamed for everyone to stop in their tracks. "Jack gets to meet him first!" He embraced me not only with his arms but with his heart. I was welcomed as "one of the brood." He and I shared a passion for reading, especially history. Within a year Jack was diagnosed with lung cancer. Despite his determination to beat this dreaded disease, he passed away in October, 1995. He was a very kind, gentle man who was at peace with himself and everyone around him. His son, James, inherited these same values from his father. I was with the family the morning Jack passed away. At one point James and I went to a local restaurant and picked up a sandwich, although neither felt like eating. As we sat and talked I asked how he was doing. He assured me he was fine. Then he turns and asks me how I am coping with Jack's death. "I know you and dad got very close. Are you all right?" The guy amazes me. He had just lost his father and he was worried about me. At a towering 6'4", James truly earns the title, "Gentle Giant." |
