Oh Brother....

15? Wait a minute. There aren't 15 of us, are there? *counting on my fingers hidden under the table* Ryan, Charidy, Kristi, John, Adam, Kendra, me, Brandon, Darren, Allison, Becky, Jeremy, Melinda, and Joseph. Nope, that is only 14. Maybe it's a typo, but that's Aunt Janet's handwriting so it can't be. Text...Mom...now.

"Why is there a 15 for number of grandchildren?"

"I'll tell you later."

Oh, phew, error...*read text again* Wait, what?

As I sat and pondered what my Mom could possibly mean by the "I'll tell you later" text, my curiosity grew. Is there another grandchild I don't know about? Seriously, though, I'm 31...how could I not have known an 8th original existed? Gotta know...hurry up in here. I have questions!

My Mom, Aunt Gayla, Aunt Janet, Aunt Lu, cousin Ryan, the minister, and I were all gathered around the table at the funeral home reviewing the information that was to be put in my Granddad's obituary. On the "Number of Grandchildren" line, the number 15 was written in and had completely thrown me off. I glanced across the table at Ryan and was shocked he wasn't trying to figure out what I was so confused about. Had he not heard? And, now, my mind was racing with all sorts of possibilities.

Did someone have a baby and it didn't make it?

Who could have had another child? Hmm...not my Mom, no. If I had to guess out of my two capable aunts, it would have to be Aunt Gayla. Maybe she had one prior to Ryan that none of us know about that didn't survive...maybe her kids knew all these years and the rest of us were in the dark...maybe I'm the only one who didn't know...Gah, let's finish the review and get going...I have questions!

After another half hour of going through the same conversation in my head, we were finished at the funeral home. Admittedly, it was nice to have a small distraction from the thought of not having my Granddad around anymore. Aunt Janet, Mom and I were going to go to Berta's to handle ordering the flowers for the funeral. As I got in the vehicle, I couldn't help but ask...

"So, it's later. What is the 15 about?"

"I'll talk to you about it when we get home, Manda."

Grrr...seriously?!?! I had just spent the past 45 minutes trying to figure it out and now was being told I had to wait even longer? Ok. Fine. I can keep patient a little while longer. We got to Berta's and ordered the flowers for the casket, the vase to represent the daughters/sons-in-law, the vase to represent the grandkids, and the vase to represent the great-grands. We had decided that we were going to see if there were pins or something that we could get from the Marine recruitment office for the family to wear in honor of our favorite WWII vet, so we took off from Berta's to that office. But, I couldn't hold it anymore.

"Mom, seriously, will you please tell me who this 15th is/was/whatever? I cannot handle waiting any longer."

"Ok. You have a brother."

"Oh. Ok."

WAIT. WHAT?!?!

"What?" Ok, must be Dad's...there's no way it is Mom's. "Is he from Dad?"

"No, I had him."

I sat from that point at 8th and Mary until we reached the Marine office just shocked. First I had thought it was Aunt Gayla. Then when I found out that this number 15 was MY brother, I thought it had to be from my Dad. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine my Mom. I was speechless. As we drove on, my Mom proceeded to say she would talk in more details at home, but she would understand if I was mad. She also asked that she be the one to tell my younger sister, so if I could not say anything to even Brandon until Beck was told, she would appreciate it.

Mom was engaged prior to Dad - this we had known. He was Indian (from India) and they had met at Emporia State. Just after graduation, they were supposed to head off to California together, but he left Mom behind. Mom had moved back to Garden City, living with my grandparents while working to save up money for her own. She was able to hide the pregnancy, but it soon had to be told to my grandparents. Grandma was a nurse, so after the doctor she worked for confirmed it, they discussed things and decided to send her off to Wichita to the Salvation Army Booth Hospital to have him. It was 1975, it was not acceptable to be an unwed expecting mother, and even though she was in her early 20s, she had shamed the family. She spent a little over a month there. No one came with her, no one visited her. She gave birth to a boy on January 31, 1975. She put him up for adoption, which at this time was closed. She may have been in her early 20s, but she wasn't ready to be a mom...she didn't have money...and she knew her parents wouldn't help her.

When we got to the Marine office, I gave my Mom a big hug. I didn't know why, but I felt like she needed it. The office was closed, so we settled with the idea of getting red/white/blue ribbon and making ribbons for us to wear. So, Aunt Janet and I headed to Walmart while Mom went home. As we walked around Walmart, I talked to Aunt Janet some. She told me about how she could still remember my Mom leaving the house to go tell my Dad about my brother when they were engaged. "She said that she hoped she came back still engaged, as she walked out the door. She came back and it was like a thousand pounds had been lifted off her shoulders."

As we pulled into the drive, Aunt Janet said that Mom had wanted to tell us girls for years, but it wasn't an easy conversation to have, especially during some of our tougher times with my sister. She didn't tell me that I couldn't be mad or upset or hurt, but to remember that Mom has been through more than I know and hopefully I'll understand more as Mom and I talk about him.

I went in the house, full of questions and ready to talk. I still wasn't mad. I wasn't hurt. Mom and I sat at the kitchen table until lunch time, talking about it. She had gotten to hold him for about an hour. He had blonde hair and blue eyes like she did. She had named him Bradley Allen. 

All in that hour-long conversation, things clicked. 

~Beck and I didn't get along growing up. We always fought and had few moments of getting along. There were days we begged for a brother - either a baby one or adopt an older one. Looking back, I remember times we said that and Mom's face turned sad. Oye...

~Mom keeps an address book. In the front there is a special section for just birthdays. Bradley's name and birthdate had been written in there all my life. When we'd go through that for the monthly calendar, Beck and I would always ask. Mom would just answer that it was a cousin. Oye...

~On his birthday, she would disappear for a bit down the hall. We always just assumed it was a shower or nap. Oye...

~The year that Mom and Grandma didn't talk...I had thought it was something stupid and that Mom should get over it. OYE...

~Bringing Jeremy into our family also meant my adorable nephew, Bradley. No wonder she gave him a nickname right off the bat...Oye.

Even now, two years later, I'm not mad at her for not telling us sooner. She couldn't. She was embarrassed. After all, it had been a huge embarrassment to my grandparents (though they kept it a secret...which I still, to this day, do not know how my Aunt Lu could have not said anything since she has the mental age of a 7-year-old) and she was ashamed of herself. I cannot imagine what it was like for her all the years she kept it locked up. Beck and her had a volatile relationship, especially when Beck became a teen, so it would have driven an even bigger wedge in their not-so-great relationship. I feel bad for her. I still love her unconditionally and wish I could take away the pain she dealt with all the years, the hard relationship with my Grandma, all of it. 

My sister...well...she didn't take it as well as I did. She got mad. She outright yelled that she couldn't believe my Mom could lie to us for 31 and 29 years. She didn't speak to her for several weeks after the funeral. I did the best I could to push my sister to understand the pain Mom had dealt with, but it didn't seem to matter. Even today, though Beck has forgiven Mom, there are still times when she doesn't understand how she could keep it from us. My Dad even though Beck that if she was going to be at Mom, she had to be mad at him too because he had known and he didn't push Mom to tell us either.

Fast forward to 2 years later....

I get plagued with curiosity. Does he still look like a Sears? Is he a good person? What did his adopted parents change his name to? Where does he live? Does he have a family? Does he know he was adopted? If he does, does he want to find Mom? Why hasn't he found her yet? I want to find him. 

I'm struggling right now with wanting to post on Facebook sometimes about him. I stop myself every time and delete what I'm about to post. Aunt Janet told Darren and Melinda after Becky, Brandon and I knew. Aunt Gayla, still two years later, never told her children. I don't think it should be my job to do that. Plus, Ryan has always taken the lead as the oldest grandchild and I don't want him to feel like that's been a lie all these, because it hasn't been. Regardless of my brother being the oldest of us grandkids, it doesn't change how we grew up. Aunt Janet feels that I should be able to post and if blows up on my other aunt, it's on her for not telling them, not on me. Our family became divided after Granddad passed away, and things are slowly getting better, so I don't want this to break it again.

No matter what, somewhere out there (hopefully) is my older brother. I would love to meet him. I would love him to be in Mom's life. For now, I will pray that we meet.