BY JOELLEN COLLINS
My last column conveyed the wealth of tender and loving care I have received since my fall about six weeks ago. I am recovering more quickly than expected. I think much of this process has accelerated because of the conversations, help with household functions and, most certainly, the daily laughter I had as a result of my interactions with both professional caregivers and several dear friends. Something emerged as almost miraculous, because the pain and inconvenience to me was tempered by the gratitude I have for my community.
Today, however, I need to mention an astounding communication that showed up on my computer, entirely unexpected and joyous. As many of you know, a few years ago I discovered my biological mother’s family who live in Oklahoma. They have welcomed me as if all the years I could have known them seem to have been scrunched into the inclusion I feel and their gracious acceptance of me and my life story. What a blessing!
When I opened my laptop to catch up, there was an email from a gentleman in Fort Worth, Texas, letting me know that I am his half-sister, born of our mutual biological father. In short, I have added two new families to my list of relatives and now possess two half-brothers and my adopted brother from the family that raised me. I could never expect this kind of news, especially at this later time of my life.
I have a handsome picture of Markley (my birth father) with a snappy cowboy hat on, like a shot from a fifty’s movie. We don’t resemble each other. He was from a farm in Follett, Texas, where I would have been born if my pregnant mother had not been sent out to California, where I was adopted. He was one of 13 children (eight were male). I also have a picture of six of the brothers posing in 1945 in their military uniforms after they returned from WWII. One, the thinnest, had been released from a prisoner of war camp.
As a writer, I am, of course, curious about their lives, though I probably won’t get to meet the dozens of cousins I probably have. Because Markley is the biological grandfather of my daughters, I want to find out more about him. I do know that he was a paratrooper who, from a fall with a defective parachute, broke his back in three places.
There are many ironies to all of this, which may take too much time to analyze. Since some of this very large family want to meet me and see what I look like, my new brother is planning a zoom meeting for that purpose.
Then, after my surprise email, I received good news about my second novel. So, how grateful can I be? Life is full of unexpected events, some painful and others nourishing. I am filled with gratitude to be receiving these happy surprises, reminding me that if we just keep going, less fortuitous events may be accompanied by new and humbling gifts.