My father was in his twenties before he discovered that his 'aunt' was really his half-sister. I expect my great-grandmother got a few of those sideways "Wait, when the hell did she have her" looks.
It's one of those good ol' depressing tales of repression. My grandmother got pregnant as a teenager by a soldier during WWII and he...well, the official story is he died, but I think he really just abandoned her. Her parents arranged a trip to the country and passed the baby off as their own upon their return. A few years later my grandmother met a man abroad and decided to emigrate and get married, and it's a little sketchy whether her parents wouldn't let her take her daughter or if her new husband wouldn't let her bring her, but my grandmother crossed the ocean alone and the truth didn't come out until my great-grandmother was on her deathbed.
Oh, the convoluted family stories! Perhaps this is why I'm not interested in my own ancestry; it's too complicated. (Actually I know it's just because I don't care about anyone's family stories. I only like fiction. :D )
*laughs* I actually wish I knew more about my genealogy, but my family is the sort where I'm in the first generation to actually know and care what my grandparents' names are. But you're right - fiction is much more interesting, and usually much more satisfying.
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amanuensis1) wrote2009-09-22 07:05 pm
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(And how much do I love your icon?)
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(Hee, I'm still shameless about that pairing.)
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