Confused?
The stream of consciousness started to flow very simply this week. I was watching the season finale of TNT's "Dallas." I will issue now a spoiler alert for those of you who may be fans and have DVRed this episode. Do not read the next line.
We learn that J.R. Ewing had a daughter. And that John Ross Ewing, his son, is now aware that, somewhere in the world, he has a sister.
To find such close relatives at such a point in your life. How unsettling, miraculous, and fun that can be simultaneously.
I thought about it all. Indeed, if you are regular visitors to this on-line nonsense, you've heard a lot of tales about my family as I grew up. My paternal grandparents who owned the house that my parents and I lived in. You've seen a lot of old photos of my family's holiday gatherings. There have been no mysteries. My life has been an open blog.
Alas, amidst all those Technicolor photos, you have seen very little evidence or information about the other side of the family. My mom's. Hence, the empty picture frame that adorns the top of today's entry.
There are no pictures because I never saw any. I'm not sure if my mom even had photos of her parents. If she did, they might have been stored way back in her own memory drawer.
I know this. My mom and her older sister were born in New York City. Depending upon how she felt on a given day, the actual year of birth would change by one or two. Their parents were named John and Esther. As the slim story goes, they both got sick with influenza about that time in our history when such an ailment was a fatal disease. Allegedly, they died practically in succession. One apparently got sick and then gave it to the other. And out. My mom was about ten. Her sister was about twelve.
I know they both wound up in the Leake and Watts orphanage that I still believe exists in Yonkers, New York. As a matter of fact, my mom had to contact them for some records when she was filing some official documents when she retired. She was on their mailing list. How long were she and my aunt there? No clue.
When the inquisitive me asked questions about any of this, my mom's standard response was sort of like a press representative for a politician.
"I have no information at this time."
Or something like that.
Do you have any photos?
"No."
What did they do for a living?
"I was too young."
Were there any other relatives?
"I don't think so."
Hmmm. I don't think so.
Back when I was a kid, there was a common resource when you wanted information from one parent. You asked the other one.
Dad was no help.
"Your mother doesn't want to talk about any of that."
Okay, so that means he asked the question, too.
Opening the curtain on our lives even further, I can tell you that, in later years, both my mother and my aunt had...well...a love of beer. I wouldn't say they were out-and-out alcoholics but there were frequent evenings with multiple buzzes going. If we went to visit my aunt and her family out on Long Island, both women were fairly fuzzy within the first two hours.
Hmmm. What is behind that?
I never knew it. And was only left to purely speculate.
Years later, I tried to broach the issue again coming at it from my status as a full-grown adult. Not long before she passed away, my mom got the question again.
"It was complicated."
Today that's why people use on Facebook to describe their relationship status. Back then, it was my family's way of avoiding a question and/or an issue.
So, now you know why my mind was working overtime in the middle of the Dallas season finale. John Ross has a sister.
Are there any relatives I am missing? Did John and Esther have brothers and sisters? This would have given my mother and my aunt cousins. Maybe it gives me second and third cousins removed. A whole extended family. I mean, my maternal grandparents weren't aliens from outer space who just showed up on Planet Earth.
I've thought about that Ancestry.com program. I went into it for a trial. I was immediately asked questions for more information. I suddenly turned into my parents.
I don't know.
And likely never will.
Dinner last night: Roast bee french dip panini at the Arclight.
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