When Rae was just ten years old, her parents—who ought to have loved her the most—left her. She received the warmth, affection, and support she never realized she needed when she was taken in by her aunt and uncle. Rae, who is currently 22 years old, has established a successful life for herself. She is succeeding in her bright IT career. Rae must deal with ancient scars when her estranged parents re-enter her life since she is doing well. While trying to gain a second chance, she must choose whether certain breaks are too deep to heal and whether calling someone “family” is sufficient based just on blood.
My life changed when I was ten years old.
I was working on my math homework at the kitchen table the following minute. My mom packed things into a little pink suitcase while my dad waited at the front door with the motor going.
“Just for a little while, sweetheart,” my mother said, attempting to seem upbeat. “Don’t forget, we’re going to Grandma’s.” You like hanging around with her.
Despite my confusion, I nodded. A lot of ten-year-olds do it. I had no idea at the time that “a little while” would last forever.
My younger sister Ellie was already impressing people with her pointed toes and back handsprings at the age of five. She was told she was unique by her gymnastics coach. My parents heard him say, “She’s a genius.” “She might be good enough for the Olympics.”
Everything changed with those five words.
Ellie was no longer a young child wearing tights. Suddenly, she became the most significant member of our family. Her practices, training sessions, and tournaments came first. She was usually in the lead.
How about me?
I had lost my significance.
It sounded like a huge sacrifice to my parents.
“You’re older now, Rae,” my father replied, before messing up my hair as if it would help. “You are now older. You will get to spend time with Grandma and we will visit frequently. “You’ll see!”
They failed to appear. During the first month, they failed to appear. The following month, they also failed to appear. Additionally, there were fewer calls. Up until my eleventh birthday, I remained by the phone. Then Grandma told me to sit down one rainy afternoon.
She said calmly, “Ellie is getting their attention,” but her eyes were blazing. “She has a good chance of getting something big,” they claim. They also believe that you should remain with me.
Grandma gave it her all. However, she hadn’t driven in years, her knees ached in the morning, and her vision was deteriorating. Every day, getting to school was a problem. It was exhausting to go to the supermarket. After a few months, she called because she could no longer stand it.
Uncle Nate and Aunt Carol entered at that moment.
They had never been successful in becoming parents. When I stepped in, Aunt Carol sat down beside me and said, “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Uncle Nate joked that I was “misdelivered” by the stork.
“Don’t worry,” he replied, grinning. “We called customer service and they fixed it.”
It took me a while to laugh. However, I did believe them in the end.
Aunt Carol would braid my hair every night and give me advice on how to grow it out and prepare for bed. She clapped wildly at every school performance, even when I had only two lines, took me to mother-daughter brunches, and occasionally dressed like us.
After grueling days, Uncle Nate took me out for ice cream, offered me advice, and told me amusing stories. He referred to me as “little lightning” as I could quickly fix anything, including my homework or the remote.
When I was twelve, I stopped trying to get in touch with my parents.
They haven’t phoned in a long time. No cards for birthdays. No gifts. They never even sent me a letter. Additionally, they did not send me $1 to assist with bill payment. I got what I needed from Carol and Nate.
They made it official when I turned sixteen. They opened the door for me.
Aunt Carol enjoyed chocolate cupcakes and fairy lights while having dinner alfresco. She even gifted me a golden puppy that wriggled and had a ribbon around its neck.
“Now you’re officially ours,” she stated while assisting me with donning my party gown. “I’ve loved you since you were a baby, Rae.” However, I came to the realization that I wasn’t destined to be a mother to anyone else when you moved in with us. “Just you.”
I cried in her arms that night.
They had truly taken on the role of my parents. the kind that arrived. They continued to be in my life.
I was doing extremely well by the time I got to college. In high school, I developed a deep affection for computers. I like writing code, solving issues, and creating my own systems. Before he called IT for assistance, Uncle Nate made a joke about hiring me to fix his company printer. In addition, he called me a “tech witch.”
They provided funding for my college education. When I got my first internship, they applauded. Aunt Carol wept more than I did during my graduation.
The past resurfaced for me when I was twenty-two and employed in IT.
A text message started it all.
Hello, Rae! We would want to speak with you again since we miss you. When can we have dinner? — Parents
I looked at it for a while. I intended to discard it. It was something I ignored.
Then Christmas Eve arrived.
Every year, despite my fatigue from work and Grandma’s knee pain, we attended midnight mass. I noticed them as we approached the church door.
My mother, wearing a warm coat, was standing outside. Even after midnight, her makeup still looked flawless. Her expression brightened at the sight of me, and she rushed to me as though we had just spoken.
“Raelyn!” She smiled. “It’s been too long!” “You look so grown up!”
I kept going. Grandma continued to walk, but I walked at a steady, easy pace.
My voice was steady as I said, “Sorry,” “Do I know you?”
As if he had bitten into a lemon, my dad approached her from behind, his face flushed and his body rigid.
“What?” he shouted. “That’s not the right tone.” We are your parents!
I paused and feigned contemplation.
I responded, “Oh, you must be Denise and Alan.” Alright. To go get the medals, Ellie left me behind. I was wrong.
Their faces resembled stale paper. Everyone else was shocked when Grandma and I entered the chapel.
Behind us, there were two pews. The entire time, I could feel their gaze on the nape of my neck. They cornered me once again as we were leaving.
“Do you really not know who we are?” My mother inquired quietly, like though the person I recalled had never existed.
My response was simply, “It doesn’t matter.”
Later that week, they called after somehow obtaining my number.
“Raelyn,” my mother said delicately. “Since you’re doing so well now, don’t you think it’s time to help your family?” In exchange for everything we’ve done for you, would you kindly do us a favor?
I chuckled.
“What did you do for me, I apologize? You mean to leave me on Grandma’s couch and never return?
“Stop being so dramatic,” she replied harshly. “We gave you space to grow!” “You wouldn’t be where you are now if we hadn’t given up some things.”
“Do you mean letting me go?” I said it angrily. In order for Ellie to recover? So you would be able to focus on finding gold medals without worrying about me?
My father’s voice sounded gruff when he spoke.
“Family stays together.” Now, please keep that in mind. “You owe us.”
“I don’t owe you anything,” I said. “The only people I owe are Nate and Carol, who raised me. It was they, not you, who were concerned about me.
I then hung up.
It may have made me feel quite guilty. I believe I ought to have seen how Ellie was doing.
The truth is, though, she would have also cut me off. She didn’t give a call. Avoid texting. She never texted in all these years. The only surviving sibling was me. It was me who was disregarded.
As I watch Uncle Nate attempt to flip pancakes without burning them, I feel at ease at the kitchen table with Nate and Carol.
The table is covered with bits of wrapping paper, glasses of hot chocolate, and Christmas presents. Aunt Carol is humming along to a Christmas song on the radio. I have a dog that snores beneath the table. Grandma is lying in the recliner by the fire, a blanket across her lap.
My family is this.
These are folks who have entered my life; they are not blood relatives. They remained resilient.
the stylists that did my hair. They had faith in me. Who gave me the names “songbird” and “lightning”? who never gave me the impression that I was inferior.
My biological parents can continue to contact, text, and act as though they didn’t harm me when I was 10 years old.
However, I am no longer ten.
My name is Raelyn Harper. I am liked by others. I am complete. I am also aware of my true family.
