The Secret
By MAlink

Dear Diary,
For the first 16 years of my life, I shared a secret with people I didn’t even know. I didn’t know that I was the secret. I am the oldest of eight kids, and until today, I believe we all shared the same parents.
Today, the man I had always believed was my father introduced me to his boss as his stepson. Until then, I had always thought, as did my other siblings, that we all had the same father. It’s not just knowing who your father isn’t but being the only one not knowing who he is. I never told my sisters and brothers about what our father, their father, had said. He had said it with such ease that the word stepson rolled easily out of his mouth you would have thought that I knew the secret, but I didn’t. Was this just a slip of his tongue, anxious to introduce me to his boss that he just misspoke?

It wasn’t until I got home and saw my brother and sisters that, for the first time in my life, I felt apart from them. They had no idea that I had been changed from a full-fledged brother to a half-brother in just a few words spoken to a total stranger.
I refuse to believe that what my now stepfather did was intentional. Although, he had no conversation with me about me before announcing it to the world. If he had done that, it would be mean and without reason, with no consideration for my feelings.
Over the years, there have been many instances that made me much more aware of how much I didn’t know about who I was.

There was a time when my uncle threatened to cut me with his pocket knife and my grandmother had to intervene to stop him; he yelled out at me, “I know who your father is.” My grandmother quickly shut the conversation down. There were other times when I was with my mother, people had walked up to us and asked if I was the son of, and before they had a chance to complete their question she would quickly and sternly interrupt them and give them my stepfather’s name instead. Their expression, when corrected by my mother, was one of confusion. They were part of a secret and didn’t know it.
The family dynamics never changed. I was still the big brother and saw no need to include them in the secret.
I was never close with my stepfather, even before I knew I was a secret. Knowing that he was not my real father made no significant change in my relationship with my brothers and sisters. But I did better understand why there had always been a feeling of distance I had always felt between me and my stepfather. I didn’t mind it however, he was not a good father. So it was no surprise that his death brought no great sorrow for me as his stepson. He had served in the military, and as with the military custom, the oldest living son is presented with the ceremonial flag. Up until my younger brother, his oldest son, accepted the flag, I thought no one in the family knew my secret. I watched for a reaction from the family as the flag was presented to my younger brother as to why he got the flag and not me. They knew. Everybody knew that I was not his son, I was not the big brother. There was no reaction from the family. It was as if the secret had been finally revealed.
You would think that the secret ended that day. That the mystery of who I was had been answered. Nothing could be further from the truth. I am 73 years old today and I carry the secret with me always.

By the time I had found out my birth father’s name, he had died. My mother also died shortly after his death, not, ever speaking to me about my father. My oldest living Aunt at the time, on her deathbed, told me his name. Like her, my other relatives who knew the when why, and where of the secret took it to their graves.
My birth certificate does not list my father’s name, as if I never had one. I cannot say not knowing my father has had any impact on my life, but being part of a mystery most certainly has.