Musings on family

Somewhere out there
I have twin cousins
whom I’ve never met
born to my cousin
and adopted out to a family in Hawaii.

And I wonder would they see their face in my own.

My other cousin, my father’s nephew,
is now the age my father was when he passed
and he looks more like my father’s son
than his own sons
and I see my face in his own.

I know I am my father’s child
for the sharp rise of temper
for the black and white thinking
for the way of knowing
there is only one right and only one wrong.

I wonder if my twin cousins
would ever want to know
that my father wanted them,
fought to try to take them
didn’t want them to be unknown.

Eight people in two generations have been adopted.
Six in and two out.
Four were supposed to be a secret
Two were supposed to pass
Two were supposed to slip away.

And I wonder if there are more stories I don’t know.

Two raised in the family as a secret
nobody could talk about, should have forgotten
except my aunt (their aunt)
writing me a letter, forgot and wrote
“___ is like a good son, he is running the business now.”

Four babies adopted and two better than the others
Two whom they try to forget their origins
The cousin thinks her children are better
Better than those other adopted children
Better because they are the same.

And I wonder would I be good enough to claim.

3 thoughts on “Musings on family

  1. Oh because this is so powerfully poignant, beautifully spoken and yet also very personal. I feel like anything I would say would trivialize it–and yet I wanted to respond, even if lamely.

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