"Hi!"
"Hi. [normal pleasantries] Sooo I have to ask a question and all I want is a yes or no answer, okay? Can you do that for me?"
"Yes."
"Okay, well, do you know if your mom ever told your sister that my mom had a baby and gave it up for adoption?"
[silence]
"Oh-my-gosh-Grace-I-am-so-sorry-I-can't-be-the-one-to-tell-you-this"
"So it is true?"
"I'm not the one who you should be talking to --"
"Give me a yes or no answer"
"Really, you need to talk to your mom."
"Say yes or no, I asked you to say yes or no to my question."
"I have no idea what you know or who told you what, and I am sorry that you found out this way but she wasn't raped."
"Thank you. I need to go to a meeting right now, and you still didn't answer my question."
I remember being on the floor when I hung up, as I had slipped to a seated position beneath my dining room window somewhere around the time she said, "Oh-my-gosh-Grace," and my husband helped me to my feet. He was looking at me and I said, "Well, it's true."
deep breath. post.
** To this day, almost three years later, she and I still have never talked openly about this phone call nor have we discussed anything pertaining to my sister. Now and again, I will allude to the fact that I am not actually the oldest grandchild, or that I am not the only girl in my family of origin. She never says anything, she freezes and just looks. I know that it makes her uncomfortable, and I revel in that. She has never apologized for the events she set in motion following this conversation which I will unpack in future blog posts.
