My youngest son joins me in the family room and sprawls out on the couch to my left. I notice he is wearing the new clothes I purchased for him. They look nice.
“You have your new pants on. They look good on you. Are they comfy?” I ask.
“Yeah. I like.”
He rolls over into an awkward position with his head resting on the arm rest looking at me.
“You know, Mom, I was just thinking. There are three people in our family I have never met. Two on Dads side and one here”
“Oh? “ I ask wondering what prompted this and where it is going.
“Grandpa Steve and let me guess, Aunt Stephanie?” I suggest.
Grandpa Steve died of brain cancer before my son was born, Aunt Stephanie died young of cystic fibrosis. Son is named after his grandfather and indirectly is aunt. Stefan, Stephanie, Stefan.
“Well, they may be gone but you are sort of like them. So they are with you. You are named after Grandpa Steve and even Aunt Stephanie. Also, Grandpa was a builder like you. You sort of know them.”
“Yeah, but there is one person here in our family too I don’t know.”
“Your sister?” I ask.
“Yup. What’s her name again?”
“Well, I named her Amber but her name was changed. She is now called [amended name]”
“Why? I like the name Amber. And that is weird she has the same name as my cousin and my step sister.“
“Well, that is what happens when a child is adopted. The new parents change the name.”
“Why do they do that? She had a name.”
I do not respond.
“So she doesn’t have your last name?”
“No. She was adopted so her last name and first name was changed.”
“That is weird. “
I refrain from comment.
“Will I ever get to meet her?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s weird too. To have a sister and not be able to know her.”
I refrain from comment. I simply have no words.