Every time Gabe went to visit “his dad” and “Grandma Mary,” they brought back and gift for me, too.

This time, it was around Gabe’s 3rd birthday, I think, because I got this Big Bird transistor radio from Daddy and I got this really cool habit trail race car for my hamster that lived at Grandma’s house.

I had spent the last weekend or so alone, without my brother and that left me with many questions.

Why didn’t I go to Grandma Mary’s anymore?  Why didn’t Daddy have me over for the weekend anymore?  Why was my last name different on my medical stickers than on my school records?

I was only seven years old, but I remember sitting on the front porch step wondering all these things, as I tried to remember the way Great Grandma had taught me how to pray about things.

When my mother’s shock wore off, about my questions, she sat down and explained to me that my biological father was her first husband and his name was Michael Jeffers.  I remember being relieved that I wasn’t crazy. I didn’t feel hurt.

From that year on, though, every time a new phone book was delivered we looked to see if he was in it.  His parents always were but he wasn’t..  there is was, every year, Dunbar Lane.

Kenny (Gabe’s dad) and Gabe’s Grandma Mary never sent nor gave me another gift.  I guess to them, their obligation to me had ended.  For me, as a kid, I though it was just sad and mean.