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Growing up, they said that she was our 'half' sister.                                                                                               They also said that our father was not her 'real' father.
Somehow, I never saw anything 'step' about him toward her.                        No matter how hard I tried, I could see nothing 'half' about her.                                                                                              

She was the oldest of 8 sisters and four brothers. Our father, her 'step' father, married our mother when our 'half' sister was just a toddler.  Moreover,  he also took in our grandmother. In addition to the 12 of us, there was also our dog name Jack. There was mother and grandma who was our mother's mother. And then, there was our father, the man they called 'her step father'. 

As I was growing up, I always thought that there was something really wrong about our father. He was very hard and angry.  I had little appreciation for him. That is, until some of my 'whole' sisters shared some great things about him that I had not considered. Even before that eye-opening experience, those years that I had bad feelings about him, his love toward our 'half' sister was never in question. I never saw him as a 'step' father to our oldest sister, because I never saw him treat her any different.                                    

When I do the math and add it all up, I guess what I'm saying is that my father was far more than 'a step' to my 'half' sister, and my 'half' sister was more than 'a half' to me. It takes two pints to make a quart; four quarts to make a gallon; two 'halves' to make a whole. I shall never understand how one 'half' of a sister was never 'half' but always a whole to me.                           

093020PS
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