TITLE: The Other Half of Me
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Looking back on my childhood, I can see vivid pictures of West Virginia dancing through my mind. Little did I realize these were not fancy dreams of a child as my mother always told me, but a memory that was part of who I am and will always be.
You see, my real mother was only fours years old when Great Granddaddy died in the worst mining disaster our our nation's history. After that, Great Grandma was never the same. To put it bluntly, she lost her mind and had to be institutionalized. That's when Grandma was sent to live with her Aunt two miles away. Great Aunt Elizabeth had a propensity for preaching the Gospel for the slightest infraction that Grandma Elizabeth made.
I suppose that's what led Grandma to run away with a 'no good - do nothing' guy who left her with a baby and no place to live. The cycle continued in Mother as she too was left alone with twins baby girls and no means of providing for them.
That's how I came to live with The Michaelson's who hailed from the well to do side of Philadelphia. I was told my twin sister was not as fortunate as I. You may be wondering how I know all this since Mother never told me. Well, in fact she did - on her deathbed she blurted out the truth, stating she and Poppa felt in was in my best interest not to know about dear Sonja, my other half. Frankly, I didn't believe that story for a minute, but I wasn't about to confront her sincerity as she breathed her last breath.
That is what brings me here today - my quest to find my sister, my other self. The one I somehow knew existed all along.
Somewhere in an adopted person's soul lives that unbreakable connection - that feeling that something else belongs to your history - that you are not all you seem to be; that you share someone else's DNA.
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