Sisters. My sisters.

A few months ago, my mother delivered some news to me that was quite shocking. She invited me over on a Sunday and said she needed to talk to me. She had made pound cake. I knew it would be bad news. Bad news always goes best with pound cake. And we all know how much I like cake. Even 'bad news' cake is ok by me.

Here's what she told me: I have, unbeknownst to me up to this point, three living, breathing sisters from my mother's previous marriage.

Wha wha what?
Three sisters????

Can I have some more cake, please?

First off, I didn't even know my mother had been married before my dad. Second, I lived my entire life thinking I was the only child my mother ever had. I was wrong on both counts.

I took the news happily at first, thinking wow, I have 3 sisters! We can meet each other and hang out and do all those sister things that I never got to do! But then mom elaborated on the entire story.

My mother got married to a man when she was 16 years old. That seems crazy today, but of course, back in 1950's rural Alabama, these things were not unheard of. She and her husband had 3 daughters, their names escape me at the moment but I have them written down. Vicki, Cynthia, and another. I can't fathom being such a young bride, let alone a young mother. I gave birth to my first at 20, and I still think that's too young.

The man my mother married was abusive. According to her accounts, he beat her on a daily basis, but never harmed the children. My mother's parents both died by the time she was 15, so I suppose a husband seemed a good substitute for absent parents. Her younger sister lived with them as well. (Oh yeah, that's my Aunt whom I've never met. Moving on...)

My mother is a strong woman. I have a hard time imagining her in a situation where she has no control. But that's exactly where she was at that time. As a young girl with 3 small children, she couldn't get a job or earn a living on her own. Even an abusive husband with a good job was better than nothing. Or was it?

My father-to-be and my mother's husband at the time were friends. They worked together and played on the same softball team. My dad was also married with three children, 2 girls and a boy. (I was eventually told about my dad's children, when I was around 12 years old. I met two of them when I was a little older.). My mom and my dad got to be friends, and he disliked the way her husband treated her. Apparently he wasn't shy about smacking her around in front of other people.

My mother and father grew closer, and eventually they fell in love. He decided to be the good guy and rescue her from the situation. Unfortunately, none of their children were included in the departure. They both left their families and moved away to Texas to start a new life together. It would almost be romantic if it weren't so twisted and sad.

The reason my mother finally told me is that one of her daughters has tracked her down. Technology and the internet, freaking amazing. She sent my mother a letter, asking if she was who she thought she was, and wanting to see her.

My mother told the woman that she was mistaken, that no, she was not her mother and she had no idea what the woman was talking about. And that's the part I don't get. She doesn't want me to contact them either. Is she still afraid of the abusive husband? After all this time and distance? Or is she just so ashamed and embarrassed that she would rather pretend they don't exist rather than face what she did?

I want to know my sisters. I need to connect with them, it's important to me to know who they are. What happened to them after their mother, our mother, left? Did he beat them too? Did they run away? Are they married, do they have kids, grandkids, nieces and nephews? There's a whole family out there, a family of mine, that I've never met. If I have to wait until my mother dies to meet them, so be it. But I don't want to wait.

After all these years, I'm not an only child.