Searching for Siblings

I now believe that I am one of three siblings that were in the orphanage. I always knew I had a brother. But just the other day I was looking at a few photos (in my album) and I saw there was a photo where there’s another child touching me with great fondness while I’m being lifted up by one of the nuns. At first I thought this was my brother as the child looked very similar to him.

On closer inspection, matching the clothing of that of my brother and this other child, I see that it isn’t my brother, but a girl I hadn’t really noticed before and she is in another photo which enabled me to match the clothing. Looking at the two children, I think they look alike. I also noticed on the rear of the both the photos there is a hand-written cross. One cross, when the photo is held up to the light, you can see the boy who is meant to be my brother. On the back of the other photo, the cross is where the girl who is touching me. So I wonder about the significance of these crosses. I know one is my brother. Does this mean that the other one is my sister?

So now I weep softly because I didn’t spot it before. I weep for the loss of my father who chose me from the orphanage, I weep because I know he personally took those photographs and I weep because I know he must’ve known the truth behind the relativity of the crosses on the back. I now break my heart that it didn’t mean so much to me to ask when he was alive, for now he is the only one with the answers and he took those answers with him when he left.

I hope that is my sister. I’ve always wanted a sister. I always knew that I had a brother and I always knew that if I travelled this journey, the decision to search for my brother would have to be made. Now I have to make another decision but now that decision to “make a decision” is no longer “shall I, shan’t I?” I feel I owe it to myself to at least try. If I fail then at least I’ll know I gave it good crack of the whip, but I ask myself each day, if I didn’t travel this road, would I regret it having not tried. Yes, I would.

And so I walk this path, hand in hand with others who are walking alongside me; some are walking behind me in my footsteps; some have walked before me and I walk in theirs; some are following with one eye closed, some with fear, some with terror, some with excitement, some with suspicion and apprehension. All these feelings are fine, but with no memories there are no attachments, I have thought of every outcome … abandonment, untruths, no details – I’ve even thought about the possibility of their deaths before I’ve made contact, and all I seek is the truth, if it hurts to learn it, it will make me stronger, but it will continue to make me whole.


1 Comment

  1. On behalf of Trista:

    Hi Vikki,

    I can relate to your thoughts of siblings. I knew I had to search for my family when I was having lunch in Little Saigon, CA, and found my thoughts of how strangers passing by me could be blood related. It’s funny now that I’ve found my family and know that they were in the same cities at different times of my life and I could have passed by them several times without ever questioning it again. I’m grateful for my families’ reunion which also included my birth mother in April of 2001. I was able to establish a relationship with my family that makes my life meaningful and purposeful.

    Cherish your pictures and the the flight to the UK with your siblings. Just know that opening your eyes to the possibilities is Gods work. They are with you even if you never find them in this lifetime. I am willing to start the DNA project after i return form my trip to the UK. Reading your blog was a sign for me.


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