Tag Archives: dna

Poking the Hornet’s Nest

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Favorite Sister’s phone rang.

“Who sent the poem and the DNA results to Dad?”

“What are you talking about?” queried Favorite Sister.

“Somebody sent Dad a poem and the DNA results. It had to be you or the Sad Girl, or both of you together.”

“Huh, really. That’s a shame that happened to him,” answered Favorite Sister.

“Tell me…which one of you wrote the poem? Which one of you did it?”

“It doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“I am the Oldest in this family and I told you to stop this bullshit with the DNA. Just drop it.”

Favorite Sister had had enough.

“YOU are not my Mother and you CERTAINLY are not my Father. You have no authority over me. Don’t EVER try to tell me what to do.”

“DNA is bullshit!”

“You know it’s not,” Favorite Sister replied. “If you want to continue in your disbelief, fine. That’s you prerogative.”

“Why are you bothering an old man? Then he calls giving me holy hell!”

“Why should he even bother you with it? You had nothing to do with this. The DNA will not stop being sent-. it WILL go to other family members. If you have a problem,if you can’t believe the truth, take it up with a Higher Authority.”

 

It seems that the Keys to the box known as Truth, have been passed on to be defended at all costs. To what end? What else are you protecting?

 

 

The December wedding day of the Sister Who Shall Not be Named opened with a bang.

Because of Sad Girl’s beauty school diploma, she was in charge of creating a chignon for the bride.

The Sad Girl had fashioned the hairstyle a few days before as a trial.

Everyone had been pleased with the results.

On the wedding day, she recreated the hairstyle. It was beautiful. The Sad Girl had outdone herself.

The chignon did not make the Woman with the Rock in her Shoe happy.

She accused the Sad Girl of intentionally trying to make the Sister Who Shall Not be Named look ugly on her wedding day.

As Auntie’s daughter was in the wedding party, the Woman With the Rock in her Shoe alleged the Sad Girl was trying to embarrass her on purpose.

The Sad Girl dutifully redid the hair of the Sister Who Shall Not be Named  to shut up the Woman with the Rock in her Shoe and silence all allegations.

Her hair had looked better the first time.

The Sad Girl, as the Maid of Honor, wore red shoes, while the rest of the bridal party wore black. That really ticked the Woman with the Rock in her Shoe off!

“Sad Girl is trying to sabotage the wedding of the Sister Who Shall Not be Named,” the Woman with the Rock in her Shoe announced to everyone within hearing. Repeatedly.

Does anyone doubt that the Sad Girl was happy the Sister Who Shall not be Named was getting married and moving out? She would not do anything to hinder it.

The Sad Girl is the type of person who will hold everything inside for twenty-five years and then write a tell-all book.

Or a blog.

She would never sabotage anyone’s wedding day.

The wedding day went off without any further hitches. Sad Girl’s Pretend Father had selected a polka band to play at the reception.

And Sad Girl was the one accused of sabotage!

Goldilocks

Nothing to Lose, the next part of The Sad Boy and the Sad Girl

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How far would she go? How much would she write?

Silence was motioning for the smelling salts to stave off the swoon from the approaching panic attack.

The Sad Girl called her Favorite Sister. “Would you take a DNA test with me?”

And because her Favorite Sister loved her, she agreed. “If it will put your mind at ease, I will. I know we are full sisters but I don’t want you to have this question hanging over your head.”

That’s what Love does- it looks to comfort.

The Favorite Sister hadn’t told the Sad Girl yet of the questions that were hanging over her own head.

When the results came in they confirmed what the Sad Girl had already understood- they were half-sisters.

It put her Favorite Sister into shock.

Finally, the Secret that destroyed generations of a family had come out of the darkness and into the light.

And with the results, predictably, came the Greek Chorus-

“You should find another hobby other than family history… If you continue asking about your parentage, I will take it as a personal insult and a slur against Mommy’s good name.”

“DNA isn’t real. It’s bullshit science. I don’t care what a geneticist says or how many doctors you have talked to. It was a Mickey Mouse test and it’s not true.”

“Go ahead…call Daddy and ask him.”

In one breath, “I swear I know nothing.” In another breath, “ask me when Dad’s been dead for a year. Then I’ll talk about it.”

Clearly the Sad Girl hit a nerve. The Woman with a Rock in her Shoe must have had an interesting deathbed confession. The Sad Girl wouldn’t know- she wasn’t allowed to say good bye to the Woman with the Rock in her Shoe.

But what they didn’t know, couldn’t know, because the Sad Girl didn’t tell them, was that she was happy. She always knew she was different and now she had the reason- she only shared half their blood.

Silence is going to need a heavy sedative. Or another pack of cigarettes.

“Tell me what kind of man you are,” the Woman with a Rock in Her Shoe asked the Sad Boy.

Using the Italian-English translation dictionary, she launched into an inquisition that no other prospective in-law had had to face asking questions that a father should have asked.

Rapidly she fired off her queries while the Sad Boy looked her in the eye and answered truthfully.

He told her about the women, the abortions, the drug use, the temper, the brushes with death, the contemplation of murder…

On and on he went in full disclosure to the Woman with the Rock in her Shoe.

The Sad Girl had squeezed his hand and left him to the interrogation. The Sad Boy had it well in hand and she didn’t care to hear anymore.

The Sad Boy ended the conversation on two notes- he was happy to tell the Woman with the Rock in her Shoe because he didn’t want her to hear it from anyone else, and, most importantly, that he was remorseful for his youthful indiscretions.

The Woman with the Rock in her Shoe hugged him and said that God loves a repentant sinner best.

Then she instructed the Sad Girl to take the Sad Boy to confession for God’s official forgiveness and blessing.

 

 

 

 

 

Goldilocks

The Sad Boy Keeps His Promise

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“What do you care? This is my family.”

The Sad Girl looked at her Father quizzically. She looked at her Baby Sister bitterly posed behind him. Then at the Woman with the Rock in her Shoe, who stood silently by, fascination playing on her face as if she were watching a scene from a movie play out in real time.

And once again the Sad Girl was confused.

As the Sad Girl left, she closed the door on the catchphrases- Neurotic-Crazy-Liar.

She thought her Father was just being cruel.

When she told the Sad Boy and her Favorite Sister, they echoed the sentiments of cruelty and added thief. The Sad Girl had asked for a notebook of her work that she left in their care detailing family history.

It was 2 years later, while putting ancestors in a picture frame that the scene replayed in the Sad Girl’s head.

She called the Sad Boy. “Holy shit! What if he meant that he wasn’t my father?”

And in that moment, science began to catch up to the lies.

 

 

He landed at John F. Kennedy Airport in New York on November 4, 1988. His long hair curled over the collar of his faded brown leather jacket as he walked out of Customs and into New York. Black boots and jeans complimented the serious expression on his face as he scanned the crowd for the Sad Girl. Maybe he worried that she wouldn’t be there.

The Sad Girl stood at JFK International Arrivals with her Favorite Brother-Law waiting for the Sad Boy. She was in a beautiful outfit borrowed from her Favorite Sister’s closet; Her Favorite Brother-in-Law in his mechanics clothes with a greased smudged face.

An eternity passed. “What if he didn’t arrive?” her mind whispered. But her heart, her heart knew he would. With her entire being, she knew he would.

She spotted the Sad Boy. She could barely breathe. Every step brought him closer to her. He saw her. Instantly the smile curled the sides of both their mouths. Their eyes locked on each other as they beheld forever and a day.

He kissed the Sad Girl on both cheeks in a traditional Italian greeting. She enfolded his hand in hers. She just needed to touch him. He tightly held on to hers as she introduced her Favorite Brother-in-Law.

In the car he handed her back her Teddy Bear.

Her Favorite Brother-in-Law turned to her and with a twinkle in his brown eyes, his mustache turned up in an approving smile exclaimed, “So, I see you went for the pretty face. I thought you were gonna go for the money!”

He should have known the Sad Girl better than that! You can’t sleep with a man’s bankbook wrapped around you.

When she arrived home with the Sad Boy, they were greeted by her Mother and Father, her Favorite Sister and her three girls, her Youngest Sister and her Grandmother.

The Sad Boy came with many gifts. Among them a beautiful wide band 18 carat Italian gold engagement ring with a diamond in the center for the Sad Girl. Both of her parents gave the ring the eye.

In later years, her parents said to her “…and he didn’t even buy you a real engagement ring and if you think that diamond was real…” They did not understand that the ring was worth just as much as any of her sisters’ rings and probably more. Moreover, the Sad Boy had selected it for her; it came with all his love. It was not a standard American engagement ring because the Sad Boy was not an American man. The Sad Girl did not want a typical American man- her parents did not know that. They still don’t comprehend the Sad Girl.

The sitting room was converted into a bedroom for the Sad Boy.

Her father asked the Sad Boy if he intended to marry the Sad Girl or if he was just in America on a vacation. The Sad Boy declared that he intended to marry the Sad Girl.