My new sister
When it is cold and the wind is blowing, my eyes water non-stop. So, when I was out walking this morning and my tears began to fall, I thought about my sister Florence.
Growing up, I always had always wanted a sister because my brother didn't pal around with me all that much. Then nine years ago, I got my wish. It seems that my father had a family before he married my mother, a fact that he never shared with his children. When his daughter from that marriage found my brother (on the Internet) I suddenly acquired a new eighty-two–year-old sister.
Once I was over my initial shock, I knew I had to meet this woman. And I did.
We met over brunch in New York City on a gray March day in 1999. We talked and talked. Some of what she said about my father was difficult for me to hear, but she showed very little bitterness and a great sense of humor. I thought she was amazing--widowed for some time, but with a life filled with theatre, travel, and many friends. She has children and grandchildren, all who are now my relatives.
We didn't see any physical resemblance between us until we left the restaurant and were walking to the subway. The wind had picked up, and we both reached for tissues as our eyes began to tear up.
So I thought of my new sister this morning.