| ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- sister to a father of a thought My aunt—my father's sister—called me unexpectedly. I haven't talked to her in a few years. She wanted to confirm my address so that she could mail me some photos and we ended up talking for awhile. She is really the only family left on that side who I still talk with, even occasionally (excepting my two cousins, with whom I really only correspond with on social media—if you can even call that correspondence). Anyway, L. and I have such a strange relationship. When we talk it's easy and familiar and I do love her, but I also don't trust her in the slightest. Sure, she was the one who helped me meet BioMom way back when. And I stayed with her that time I came out to visit BioMom and my stepdad. And she kept me in touch with my grandmother after she had to go into assisted living. But she also used to say horribly shitty things about my adoptive mother (my mother for all intents and purposes) and once tried to imply that my youngest brother was the result of an affair that she'd had (as if my youngest brother is not the near spitting image of my father now). She's also the only link I really have to my father at this point (going on 21 1/2 years of having had no contact with him). She knew about our trip to Paris for my birthday (which I assume she knew about because my cousin L. messaged me endless tips for things to do there), but somehow she didn't know that my mother had died? I really don't believe that. She also says she hasn't really talked to my dad in more than a year and doesn't know exactly where he's living. (He's faculty at Idaho State University but still has his house in Austin). Part of me feels like I should just call her out on all of this but the other part of me is cautious. She's the only link to this entire side of my family, my history, and I can't light the match just yet. It makes me think a lot about my relationship with my oldest brother, S. He is so much like my father in so many ways but since my mother died I have felt so oddly protective of him and it helps me understand, at least a little, the fraught relationship that my Aunt L. must have with my father. I also love her, even when it's complicated. Everyone used to say we looked like mother and daughter. I don't see it as much anymore. She was—she is—beautiful and as a child I thought she was so glamorous. Once she dated a B-list country star and later she also ran for mayor and had me ride in her campaign's 4th of July parade. She wore the most fabulous clothes and to this day still speaks with the loveliest lilt of a Southern drawl. She still calls me Miss Shivers and it makes me feel like a young child again. 1:40 pm - 22.11.20
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