Days after my 10th birthday, my dad told me that I had a sister. He told me her name, her age, and her phone number. At 10 years old, I made the call, and shocked the hell out of her mother. I was excited then, and had mixed feelings later. I had always wanted a sister, as being an only child can be a lonely experience. But how could I have had a sister who was 4 years older than me? And why did her mother have my last name? My parents were married. Too much to put together back then, and lost opportunity to ask questions today, since my dad has passed away and my sister and I separated shortly after we met. I've thought about her, and our lost opportunities, for the last 16 years. I've often considered trying to find her, my efforts going no further than a general search of Facebook and Myspace. I've often wondered if she knows that are dad died, if she'd be interested in knowing that she's an aunt, if she thought about the bond that we attempted to create back then, and if she'd be interested in a do-over.

My social networking searches turned up no results. And then I searched again using the yellow pages, and then one site after another until I got a hit. My search spit out a name, an age, 3 known cities, and 1 address. I could have found my sister... again, after 16 years of being separated. But there is something keeping me from taking the next step. I could purchase information that could potentially be her's or I could make the short drive, and knock on a door that could potentially be her's. I guess I am still processing the information. Replaying the reunion in my head. One day. One day.