I have a sister I've never met. Technically, she's my half-sister. But I'm sure if I met her I wouldn't be able to identify which half was my sister and which half wasn't, so I think of her simply as my sister. It's too long of a long story to tell and really, it's not my story to tell. Anyway, the story isn't the point. The point is that I have a sister I've never met.
I was told of her existence when I was 19. But the information about who she was and where she lived and all that didn't come until I was in my mid-20's. Integrating that information into my life did not happen immediately. At 19, it was just sort of a fact on an index card kind of thing that didn't seem to change anything. Then, when I was given additional information, she became less of a fact and more of a picture of a person, but still stuck on that index card.
Then, one day last year I phoned my mother at work. A secretary answered and, after I asked to speak with my mother, she asked who was calling. I said,"Tell her it's her only daughter...who lives in France." You see those three dots? Those three dots mark the spot where I had a moment of truth. I paused and it clicked. That's where the knowledge that I had a sister jumped off the index card and made it's way into my life. And so I finished the sentence truthfully. Which was, no doubt, the first time ever.
Looking back (I know, hindsight and all that, but still), I think I always knew she was there. I think she had a place in our family constellation, despite the silence. And I think her soulprint has been in my heart since the day I was born, the sister I will one day know.