You raised me to to tell the truth, to believe in it, to say it no matter what it might happen. But I’m starting to have second thoughts now.
Our family has always been the best part of my life. When I was a kid, I loved telling my friends that my family was the greatest. And so normal. Christmas was the best, with presents lined up under the tree, and our summer vacations spent lounging in the beach house in front of cable TV.
But why am I feeling lied to? Why didn’t you tell me Eli was adopted? Why didn’t you tell him he was adopted?
I’m not sure you could handle the truth.