TheRealFiness said:

i agree ... my "Step" children are MY children ...period

Just for the record...I used the term "half brother/sister" for clarity's sake...to define more specifically the circumstances. I didn't want anyone imagining a brother or sister they never knew existed, who had both the same mother AND father as they did. I felt as if that scenario might tip the scales in a certain direction.

Some beautiful and amazing answers so far...don't let me stop you. *smile*

Byron, as much as I'm almost ashamed to admit it, I'm so cynical about human relationships that everything about reconciling the situation(s) would have to be about me.

I'd want to know names, I'd want to at least see these people, I'd "love" them in some vague psuedo-religious sense, and I'd want relevant medical knowledge. But I can't say I'd feel any need to truly know and appreciate them. I've met long-lost cousins, for example, and biology just has had so little weight to me -- especially given that somehow we're all related.

My dad was one of 12 siblings, and more often than not he couldn't even recall their names (no kidding), much less those of his grandparents and extended relatives -- and not because his family was dysfunctional or anything; he'd just sort of grown away from them, and their memory just wasn't all that important anymore. It always sort of suprised me.

Now I think some of that attitude has rubbed off on me.

It doesn't make me proud at all. Actually, sort of makes me sad. But, in the end, humans -- even parents -- are capable of some really head-spinning stuff, and I've seen enough curveballs and odd variables in my own personal life already that I can honestly say I don't think I'd be shaken much.

ADDENDUM: I'd only add that I have a considerably more positive and intentful attitude in my own household. I want my kid to know, remember and appreciate her family forever, so I work toward that.
[Edited 8/6/05 12:38pm]

I sound like a real bastard.

Lammastide said:

My father...his immediate family was broken up at a very early age. He and his brother were sent one place, his sisters another place...his mom died shortly after he was packed onto a train late a night to be sent several states away to live with a "cousin" they never met, and his father was barely around and died of Tuberculosis while he was just a small child...apparently his father didn't want treatment nor would he seclude himself from the family once diagnosed, instead saying "If I'm going to die from this, then my entire family is going to die with me"...

My father much, much later in his life felt a need to connect with his family, to find out about his parents and siblings better, as well as any family he might have, his feeling as if his family was torn apart when he was just four or five. So, he spent years literally tracking down as many different relatives as he could, to have a self history if nothing else. Often, he'd bring me along, and my attitude wasn't too much different than yours...I had no real interest in meeting long lost relatives that I pretty much knew I'd never speak to again. Yeah, they're "family", but only in the vaguest of ways...

But I can sincerely say that I'm glad he took me along with him...that I'm glad I got to meet so many different people of so many different experiences, and to know that they are indeed my relatives, my family. The "cousin" who raised him, her name was Lucy...and I actually met her when she was around 105 years old. When I hear of stories concerning this woman and who she was to my 5-year-old father, seeing her in person was profound.

It's wild..because my family was--and is--as stereotypical "perfect" a family as you could possibly imagine, right down to where I grew up. There was stability, love, safety, encouragement...no fights, no abuse, no drugs, not even alcohol other than the occasional champaigne...5 bedroom house in the suburbs, surrounded by rolling hills and a community which had one murder in 10 years. And then I think of what my father and his family dealt with. I respect the man tremendously because of it, seeing where he was and what he made of himself, by himself...and what he was able to help provide for me. I'm glad I was a part of his wanting to "reconstruct" his family from his childhood...to try and give himself one at last.

i have a father out there somewhere who knows about my existence who i only found out about at the age of 16.he could quite possibly have children of his own now, but i'm not bothered really, unless they are lottery winners i'm not interested.

My Aunt and Uncle are about to celebrate their 50th anniversary, and she's just found out her Dad isn't actually her Dad at all. What makes it worse is that her brothers and sisters have known all this time and not said a thing.

Understandably, she a little upset.


[Edited 8/6/05 10:24am]

cammille said:

oh so if he came into money he's good enough to be your father? but other than that he aint shit?.thats some shallow shit.

i have 3 brothers all adopted from Birth. i mean just days old all 3 of em, and i helped raise,feed,change thier diapers, sterilize bottles.all3 of em had apnea as babies so when that alarm went off i was 1st to check on em and administer whatever was needed for them.they are My Blood as far as im concerned

TheRealFiness said:

I treat people who deserve it well. If you're an asshole I don't care if you're family or or not, but you will not get a better treatment just because you're blood related. You'll always be family, but that doesn't mean shit really, does it?

JoeyMFinCoco said:

well i always said u can choose your friends but u cant choose family. granted there's people in my family who are complete assholes.but u know what? i dont love them any less.if thats thier personality trait i refuse to fault em for it.whatever anyone in my family says or does to me,it says more about them than me.but again i forgive and continue to love them regrdless.
[Edited 8/6/05 11:28am]

Well, I certainly did not have a "perfect" family life growing up but I have to say that I too have a great deal of respect for my father and what he was able to accomplish with his life and his family given the adversity he had to overcome throughout his life. No, it wasn't perfect but it was pretty damn good.
Today is the first anniversary of his death and I'd like to say thanks dad.
Miss you

And I think that if I found out that I had siblings out there that I didn't know about, I would be thrilled to meet them and tell them about their dad.
[Edited 8/6/05 10:55am]

Samaar said:

My heart goes out to you.

Our parents aren't perfect. The older we get the more we learn this fact. The good thing is that out of that lesson you start to gain more respect for your parents.

M

Samaar said:

Beautiful...

MIGUELGOMEZ said:

So true... I decided to use my "flaws" and "mistakes" as a learning moment for my daughter and I...she knows about the mistakes I've made, and I've explained to the best of my abilities why I felt I made them...the beautiful part of all this is that she now sees "dad" as a human being, capable of making mistakes but never capable of no longer loving her. She understands firsthand the power of foregiveness, and I make sure she constantly knows that I do, too...it's wonderful.

Byron said:

you're a good dad Jules

TheRealFiness said:

I try, Vincent..

But I refuse to let her put mayonaisse on her fries...lol

i found out i had two brothers i didn't know when i was a young teen

i still have never met them

i call myself an only child even though i have blood family and i know i am now an aunty through other family members but

they were my dads sons from a previous relationship

p0pstar said:

Do they know you exist??...Have they ever tried contacting you? What would you say if they did??...(this is wild, I didn't really expect too many people have experienced this part of the question, to be honest...)

MIGUELGOMEZ said:

Thanks M. You're so sweet.

Don't feel bad for me. Today I will celebrate my dad's life and all the gifts he gave me....a love of life, a great appreciation for the beauty and the people that surround me, the courage to do the things I know I need to do. It's a good day.

Byron said:

What a great story.

You impress me as a somewhat less... um... angry person than me. I admire that. My dad was 60 when I was born, and all of his siblings were around that age as well. As with your dad's family, my father's went through a lot also (they were a mixed race family growing up in Nashville in the early 20th century... Yeah, fireworks!) I had the opportunity to meet some of them before they passed, and it was really interesting in some rich, yet abstract, historical sense. But somehow I've always still felt "detached." It makes me sad.

I wish I could appreciate people more genuinely.
[Edited 8/6/05 12:46pm]

Byron said:

Yeah, he was a pretty good looking guy, huh?

Lammastide said:

Thanks... And no, I'm not the "angry" type... I chalk that part up to my mother...

And I never got the impression that you didn't appreciate people genuinely...I'll admit that I don't know you too well, but what comes across seems very real and very appreciative.

Either way I would beg them to take these nutso people I call my family off my hands...

Samaar said:

Very cool picture!

Samaar said:

Well, the "beautiful" comment wasn't really about his looks...lol (although yeah, he's a very handsome man )...it was just about the beauty within the relationship you hold with him still..

subhuman09a said:

Very cool dude.

Thanks sweetie.

Byron said:

I knew what ya meant Byron. I was just fooling with ya. Took a long time to get to a good place in that relationship so I'm gonna hold onto it. Thanks

TheRealFiness said:

My father had a son a year before I was born, he was called Simon, and it was great to have a brother around my age, my younger brother of 5 years was still a bit tiny as I was only 7 when I found out and was introduced to Simon.
It was great having a new mate to play football with, although he supported Tottenham and we got on really well, just like brothers should I guess.

But he fell ill with Leukemia a year after we were introduced, and past away.

My Dad told me that he moved to Australia, which I thought was great, so over the years I kept asking about him, what he was up to etc, until the day my Dad took me to his grave.
It was an eye opening moment in my childhood, dealing with the death of a family member, and a brother. But also because I always remembered my Dad carrying round three lucky green stone with him everywhere. They never left his side. And as soon as we got to the graveside, I looked at the grave, and it was covered in the same green stones.
My Dad and I looked at each other, and there was just this mad...I dunno..thing, understanding of some kind, I dunno.

Anyways, I still think about Simon now, and keep the pictures I have safe. He was really cool