Wednesday, August 8, 2007

"One Out of Four"
That's what my step dad kept saying to me. "Bony (An old nickname that I've yet to get rid of), you are one out of four."

Four kids, that is.

I think it was just the alcohol talking, but I think Rene's nearing a mid-life crisis. –I s’pose I should make it a point that my stepfather is not an alcoholic, he and my mom went out to dinner with my aunt and he seemingly had one glass of wine too many— Whatever it is that happened however, it’s got him thinking a lot of things over. He was explaining that (Actually it was more of a long drawn out drunken rant), out of the children, my mother's and his own, I am the only one that actually feels like his child.

I assume it's because I’ve lived with them for so long and I’m the only one they truly raised, but I guess it has just hit him that he is more of a father to someone who is not biologically connected to him at all, than he is to his own spawns--I mean children. (Haha)

But he says it makes him a bit sad and I’m wondering if I should be sad about not really knowing my own real father.

Rene also said that he was talking to his sister Nancy and she had mentioned, out of all the nieces and nephews, the only ones she doesn’t worry about are Joshua and Sarah. They’re smart kids, I don’t spend too much time with them though. They live about an hour away from my city. Anyway, I’m getting off track, my step dad said he kind of worries about me, but in the back of his head he doesn’t. Because he knows I’ll be fine. Says he worries about “the other three”, though. They’re all strong kids and it seems they have the will to fight whatever’s out there, …but he worries about them.

Someone actually thinks I’ll be able to take care of myself?
I’m completely shocked because I honestly don’t know if I can or not.

I suppose that’s something—somewhat—nice to hear though.
And in a way reassuring.

But now I’m thinking about my dad. He thinks I’m turning nineteen this year and he thinks I was born on the 12th. I didn’t have it in me to correct him, and Rene says not to. Probably because we both know if he had gotten his child’s birthday or age wrong and they corrected him, it’d break his heart. You’d have to really fail as a parent not to remember your kid’s birthday.

I think it’s amazing, though. They (I say “they” because I’m not exactly sure myself who said it) were right when they said family didn’t necessarily mean being blood-related to one another. I take more after someone I didn’t meet until I was eleven than I take after my own parents.
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