The Day

This was the day I met my sister Beth.

Okay, half-sister, but I really prefer just sister. We have enough qualifiers in our lives and we don't need any more tonight. That's Beth on the left, then me, our dad, Mantel Man and Bocci. It was 1976, and it must have been spring because we were in Berkeley for our cousin's track meet.

Beth lived in the San Francisco Bay Area, then as now. She was everything I wanted to be: urban, attractive, thin, sophisticated, and sixteen. I made it to sixteen, eventually.

It's weird to talk about my siblings; I say either "there were three of us" or "we four kids," depending upon the context. Every once in a while I forget and say, "my sister blah blah blah" to someone who knew me before this day, THE day, but who somehow missed the fact that I had a sister out there, somewhere. The last time I was that careless was last year, when I nearly knocked my best friend's mother for a loop; she had never heard the story, somehow.

Beth probably doesn't remember this, but every Father's Day is an anniversary of sorts for us. About 1995 I decided I wanted to find Beth, with whom we'd had no contact for years, and I was going to use my new computer for the job. The idea was to find her as a sort of Father's Day present for Dad.

No luck. I gave up quickly.

And then, on Father's Day of that year, Beth called Dad, out of the blue. Great minds must think alike, or maybe related minds do? We've been a reunited family ever since.

Beth is still urban, attractive, thin and sophisticated. Neither of us are sixteen any longer, thank God. But I am still the scruffy kid with the goofy smile, somewhat bewildered and certainly enchanted by the idea of a big sister. I still don't know how to act around her, but I love her, and I am reminded every Father's Day, which is almost here. It's a little early to be celebrating Father's Day, but I'm writing this tonight because Beth just sent me this photo, out of the blue. The subject line read The Day.

Beth, you can't make me go to Berkeley again, sorry. Happy anniversary, Sistah.

Comments

[Kathi D]

P.S. Your dad looks like he should be named "Sarge." In case you want to know.

[Kathi D]

Wow, she totally looks like a babe! That is exactly the hair I always wanted. If I had been you, I would never have spoken to her again.

But I'm glad you did.

[Da Goddess]

I, too, have a half-sister named Beth who lives in that neck of the woods. No, they are not the same person. (It's a child my mom gave up for adoption so I really had to clear that up)

The difference is that I've never met "our" Beth. I'm curious about her though. I always wonder if I'd get along better with her than I do my older sister.

Weird, isn't it?

[blissfully caffeinated]

I love that picture. You both look so happy. It's nice that you've reconnected.

[Rick's Cafe]

You were such a pip-squeek back then!
Glad things have worked out for your family.

[grandma j]

What a nice story. I see a resemblance between you and Beth.

[all things BD]

Eerie. I have a similar photo of my family when I first met my half-sister in 1981. She is 10 years older than I, and I was captivated by her. Our story did not work out as happily as yours seems to have. You're lucky to have that relationship with her.

[Chesapeake Bay Woman]

What a great photo. You look like you're just waiting to say something funny at just the right time.

I think I see a resemblance between you and Beth, but I haven't put my contacts in yet. .