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“The Reunion” Part
two Of Note: The moment I re-entered my bedroom, I seated myself at my desk, turned on a lamp and removed a copy of my Natal Birth Chart from my desks drawer. I then took a piece of scratch paper and pencil in preparation for taking notes. My eye’s scanned my Natal Chart carefully paying particular attention to the aspects and planetary configurations of my natal Third House, the House of the zodiac which represents ‘Brother’s and Sister’s. The constellation of Libra fall’s at 25 degree’s and 01 minute upon the cusp of my Third House. I have Venus deposited there at 26 degrees and 59 minutes of Scorpio. Venus is badly afflicted by my natal Jupiter in Leo in the 12th House of ‘Mysteries and Hidden Things.’ It is also in ‘square’ aspect to both my natal Uranus and Mars deposed both at 5 degrees of Gemini in my natal 10th House, and in ‘square’ aspect to my Natal Moon is Pisces deposited at 4 degrees and 12 minutes which is deposited in my natal Seventh House. “A Grand Square!” I murmured to myself. This planetary configuration is the most difficult of all astrological configurations, as any astrologer knows. “No wonder my Third House of Brothers and Sisters is so screwed up!” I noted that Pluto was co-ruler of my Third House. It too was deposited in my 12th House of “Hidden Things.” “That planet’s denotes my sister Priscilla”, I wrote. Pluto denotes the death of a child. Priscilla was the child my mother lost just a few short months after her birth in 1942. “ My natal Jupiter at 26 degrees Leo retrograded in my 12th House would describe my half-sister Marilyn whom I did not become aware was my half-sister until I was in the sixth grade. This fact had been hidden from me, as The Twelfth House of ‘Secret’s and Hidden Things’ would imply. Marilyn was multi-talented. She had been a nurse, homemaker, seamstress, and exceptional mother to both a daughter and son. Marilyn’s talents and personality traits suited all the descriptions of Jupiter in Leo. “My Grand Square would indicate the first born child. Not Marilyn, not Priscilla, not I.” I whispered as I carefully interpreted the planetary configurations, which indicated the existence of that ‘other’ missing sibling. The following are the exact notes that I wrote:
I ended my astrological profile with the eighth note. My observations were also made from using my mother’s birth chart and that of my sister Marilyn’s. It was a composite of these three charts, which led to my opinions and conclusions. As the morning sun began to rise I fell into a deep and troubled sleep. Later that evening Marilyn phoned me to see how I was doing since having had time to digest the news about our unknown sister that she had shared with me the night before? “I’m still pretty much in shock,” I admitted. “”There is something I forgot to tell you,” she said. “It may be possible that someone by the last name of ‘Silva’ may have adopted our sister? When I was a child I remember that there was a little girl about my age who came with her parents to visit Grandma and Grandpa from time to time. I remember the people’s names being Silva. If my memory is correct I recall that whoever this little girl was, she had been adopted. Now my memory of this is very foggy as it was a long time ago but I thought I should tell you just in case it is a lead.” “Do you remember anything else…anything at all? ” I asked. “No”, Marilyn replied. “That is all I remember. I did discuss this with Connie when I asked as to who the woman was that she had questioned as being our sister but she refused to tell me if Silva was her adopted name.” “Silva! Well, that’s a beginning. It may give me more to work with than you think. Our cousin Irene’s father was a man named Tony Silva. You might ask Irene to investigate this possibility. Her mother our Aunt Marion will be at the reunion and I will question her about it. You might ask Irene to do so too? It could have been someone in her mother’s ex-husbands family who may have adopted the girl? At least it is a beginning,” I replied in a voice full of hope. The Reunion Pat and I arrived in Tracy at 9:30 AM on July 1st, the date of The Cardoza Family Reunion. The temperature had already reached 101 degrees. I had made arrangements to visit The Tracy Historical Society prior to meeting with the family. My reason for visiting the historical society was to photocopy old Tracy telephone directories, those dating from 1930-1938, with hopes of finding address’s for persons with the surname of ‘Silva’. I also wanted to browse through grammar and high school yearbooks looking to find little girls with that last name. I was desperate to find my other half sister and this way the only way I could think of to begin my search. Much to my disappointment The Tracy Historical Society only had three old telephone directories in their archive and one 1941 grammar school yearbook. There were no children with the name of Silva in the yearbook. However, I did find several ‘Silva’s’ listed in the 1930, ‘31 and 1935 telephone directories. The pages of the old directories were thin and yellowed with age. I carefully photocopied every page of each book, with every name intact, just incase I might later need this information for reference. It seemed foolish for me to be so thorough, but I didn’t know what else to do? I was in an upset and confused state of mind and I was grabbing at any straw I could pluck. I was pleased to find the address and telephone number of my grandparents Mr. And Mrs. Manuel Cardoza, RR I, Box 1, Tracy, California. RR 1 Box 1! I had to laugh at the simplicity of the address. Yes, Tracy was indeed a very small town back in the 1930’s. The thin telephone books proved that. One of the two ladies who volunteered their services at The Tracy Historical Society filled me in with a bit of the cities history. She stated that in 1869 the Central Pacific Railroad (now called Southern Pacific Railroad) completed a rail into the area which is now called Tracy. The rail line ran from Sacramento to Stockton, California and onward to the Altamont Pass. In 1878 construction of a new rail line was started from Oakland around the San Francisco Bay, through Martinez to connect the Central Pacific at a point to the east of Ellis. The result of the new rail line caused the founding of Tracy on September 8, 1878. An official of the railroad by the name of Lathrop J. Tracy was given the distinction for having the town named for him. I may have discovered little to do with a family by the name of Silva at the Tracy Historical Society that summer morning but I learned all there was to know about the history of that small valley town. The ladies at The Historical Society were very proud of their home place. Lincoln Park, where our family reunion was being held, was just a short drive south from The Historical Society. The last time I had visited Tracy was in 1955, the year my grandparents and Marilyn had moved to Santa Cruz. I had never remembered Tracy as being a pretty town and was quite surprised to see that in fact it was. There were many older, well kept buildings, surrounded by vast green lawns and shadowed by large impressive Elm and Chinaberry trees. Lincoln Park was large, heavily treed and abundant with rose bushes of every color and variety. Pat and I circled the park several times trying to find a convenient place to park. We finally spotted a parking place in front of a shop named Tracy Floral and Gift Shop, which had a sign in the window stating that the shop was closed. We parked our car there and walked the short distance to the park to join the members of my family. Everybody had already arrived. I was nervous for it had been many, many years since I had been to a reunion. I had lost contact with most of my family. It is obvious that my lifestyle, profession and spiritual beliefs separated me from the average person. I had assumed that most of my relatives tolerated me at best. Since the deaths of my parents in 1963 and ’64 I rarely was in contact with any of my relatives. It was not because of any hostilities felt on my part, but rather my consideration of their feelings due to their prejudices and misunderstandings as to ‘who’ and ‘what’ I was. I was the odd ball of the family and I assumed that most ‘normal’ people were uncomfortable around me because of my differences. However, much to my surprise, I was more than warmly greeted by my numerous cousins of all ages who hugged and kissed me and made over me as if I were somebody very special and dear to them. I had forgotten how close most of us had been as children and I was amazed that they still remembered me with such affection. My only discomfort came from my mother’s brother Hank. He was The Cardoza Family’s hero, highly honored during World War Two for his military heroism and awards which included the Medal Of Honor. While speaking with one of my cousins I saw my Uncle Hank walk towards me. I extended my hand towards him and said “Hello, Uncle Hank.” He walked briskly past me with out acknowledging me whatsoever. At first I assumed he did not recognize me for it had been several years since we had last seen each other. I followed him and once again offered him my handshake. “ Uncle Hank, I’m Wally, Julia and Bud’s son,” I said. “I know who you are!” he answered gruffly as he slapped my hand aside. Embarrassed, I look around to see if anyone at the reunion and witnessed his behavior? I was relieved to see that no one appeared to have noticed the incident. It hurt deeply to be rejected by my uncle. Hank had deeply loved my parent’s. I realized now that during my parents lifetime, for their sake he had endured me. Now that they were no longer living he need not continue to keep up fictitious appearances. Due to my unconventional lifestyle Uncle Hank obviously had no respect for me. After this incident I thought of leaving the reunion as quickly and quietly as possible before any further problems might arise. However I decided instead to put the hurt behind me and go on as if nothing had happened. My purpose in being at this reunion was in truth to find my unknown sister and I was determined to do so. It was unlikely I would ever attend another family reunion and therefore I had to make the best effort I could to acquire any information about her that might be possible. My cousin Connie was the one person above all others I needed to question. Although I remembered Connie well from my childhood neither she nor I had ever been close. Connie was Marilyn’s age and therefore I was too young back in those days to be considered a part of their group. I tagged along with Connie’s baby brother Barry. Our elder cousins really never had very much to do with us. We younger children were just ‘in-the-way’ kids. Because Connie and I had never been very close I was concerned as to how to confront her with the questions I desperately hoped she would answer for me? While I visited with other relatives I watched Connie carefully from the corner of my eye hoping to find a moment when she might be alone. She seemed nervous and fidgety. I was certain she knew that I would eventually approach her for I knew that Marilyn had told her that I was aware that she might hold the secret to knowing who our missing sister was. When the moment finally arrived that she was alone I hurriedly walked over to her, gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek and said, “Hi Connie. I haven’t seen you in years. You look wonderful.” Connie was obviously nervous for although she replied polite, like-wise courtesies it didn’t take her more than two seconds to ask to excuse her self to attend to other matters. Before she could escape I stopped her by stating, “ Connie wait! Marilyn told me the secret… that she and I have a sister I was never told about. She said that you know who this person is?” My cousin quietly walked over to the barbeque and busied herself by placing hamburgers on the grille. She was very tense and I could feel her uneasiness. “I really don’t want to get into this,” she stated. “That woman has denied being your sister. I asked her several years ago if she was Julie’s child and she stated that she positively was not. Therefore I would suggest that you let it go. What difference could it possibly make anyway? That was ages ago! Who could care?” I was astounded by Connie’s insensitive reply. Her comments had angered me but I controlled my feelings and did not show it, hoping that I might persuade her to reveal more information if I remained calm and friendly? “Please help me, Connie?” I asked. “I promise you I will be tactful if you give me this woman’s name. I have no intention of calling her or confronting her and in anyway embarrassing you. I simply want to research whatever information I can get about her with hopes of finding out who she is? If I were ever to meet her I would never tell her you gave me any information about her. I promise you that,” I pleaded. “I have no intention if giving you this person’s name,” my cousin replied curtly. “I have told Marilyn that I do not want to be involved in this matter whatsoever! And now I am telling you the same thing! It was many years ago when I asked this woman if she could possibly be the child of Julia Cardoza. She adamantly denied that she was your mother’s illegitimate child and told me she would make trouble for me if I ever mentioned that rumor again. This lady is a powerful figure in this town and so is her husband. I am letting sleeping dog’s lie so please don’t ask me again. To tell you the truth Wally, I cannot even see why you would want to pursue this? Julie is dead. This is all done and over. I would suggest you just forget it all and let it go.” “Connie, can’t you understand what it mean’s to discover that you have a sister you were never told about?” I asked. “I can’t see what difference it would make,” she answered. “That’s all water under the bridge and happened too many years ago to be of any importance,” she said as she flipped the hamburgers over and then grabbed a tray of relish and briskly walked away. I was so upset and frustrated by Connie’s refusal to help me that I could feel tears forming in my eyes. Before I could wipe them Marilyn walked up to me with a look of great concern upon her face. “What’s the matter?” she asked. “I can’t believe what a cold, insensitive person our cousin Connie is,” I answered. “She refuses to tell me the name of who our sister might be even though I have promised her that I would never mention her name or get her involved in this matter in any way.” “I warned you that she didn’t want to have anything to do with this, Wally,” Marilyn replied. “What infuriates me even more is the fact that she doe’s not even have the sensitivity to understand why this could be important to us. Can you imagine that? I had no idea that Connie was so cold blooded,” I said. “Let me handle this. O.K.? Whoever this woman is, Connie fears her,” my sister said quietly. “Connie and I are very close. We always have been. I am certain that she will tell me the woman’s’ name if I tell her that this information is very important to me. Let me work on her. I promise that I will do everything I can do to get our sister’s name, ” Marilyn said as she put her hand in mine a gently squeezed it. Other than Connie there were two other people in particular whom I thought might be able to help me in my search. I did not want to stir up a hornets nest so I decided against questioning the youngest and the eldest of my mother’s siblings for it was very likely that the birth of this child could have been hidden from them. The first I was to question was one of my mother’s younger sisters, my aunt Marie. Both she and my mother had been considered to be the beauties of the family. Whereas my mother somewhat reminded me of the actress Claudette Colbert, Marie was reminiscent of the raven-haired sexy actress Ava Gardner. Both Marie and mom, perhaps because of their attractiveness, suffered in their relationships with men. Both had multiple marriages. Both had attracted addictive natured, troubled men. Marie’s third and final husband George would change her luck. George was a wonderful loving man who gave her the adoration she deserved, and Marie was finally happy at last. My Aunt Marie was kind and loving and golden hearted. Her laugh always thrilled me and she would cry tears of happiness whenever she saw me. Her appearance had changed greatly throughout the years. Now in her late fifties her hair had grayed and her once voluptuous figure was now overly plump. “Oh, I can’t believe this at all!” she exclaimed when I shared my story about ‘the other’ sister. “How in the world could something like this be hidden? Julia had seven brothers and sisters for goodness sake! Someone would have had to have known had she had a child out of wedlock!” “Aunt Marie, the older children had already left home during the period this occurred,” I offered. “The only ones left at home were Mom and Marion who was a year older than Mom…you and Uncle Tony and Aunt Lorraine.” “Yes, I was a few years younger than Julie. I must have been nine or ten years old at that time? Surely I would have remembered something at that age?” she said seriously. “You cannot hide something as important as that from an inquisitive young child.. Lorraine was a baby then and Tony was just a toddler himself so they would have been unaware had such a thing occurred,” she replied. “No, this could not have happened. I would have known. Besides, Julia and I were very close. Surely she would have shared this with me?” I knew from the way Marie responded to my questioning that she was being totally honest. I did not for a moment feel she was hiding any knowledge from me. I had spent several months during my childhood living with her and her three children during periods when my mother was hospitalized. Marie was very dear to me and I to her. I knew without question she would have shared with me whatever knowledge she had, knowing how important this information was to me. None-the-less I still felt certain, from all that I had learned, that my mother had given birth to a female child during that period in time in which Marie was still living in the same house as she. My Aunt Marion had also been a very special and important person in my life. She was the Aunt my mother and I had lived with during the difficult period when my mother had divorced Les Harlis. We had lived with her and her family until the time mom married Guy Foss and we once again had a home of our own. Marion’s first husband was a man by the name of Tony Silva. They had a daughter together by the name of Irene. Due to Tony’s drinking problems their marriage was not too long lasting. She divorced Tony and then married a man from Sweden named Nash Nashlund. Together they bore two daughter and two sons. Mom always said of her, “Marion was not a very loving mother to her kids but she is a wonderful Aunt.” Mom’s evaluation was accurate. Although stern and unaffectionate towards her children, Marion always treated me gently and with love. I believe that she felt sorry for me due to mama’s poor health and therefore she treated me far more considerately and kindly than any of the others. During the time Mom and I have lived with Marion and her family, Mama became seriously ill and had to spend numerous days in the hospital. Knowing how unbearably worried I was about my mother’s condition, Aunt Marion would place a separate dinner service at my mother’s place at the table. She would kiss me gently upon the cheek and comfort me by saying, “We better set a place for Julie just in case she comes home tonight and is hungry.” I could not help but love my Aunt Marion. Pat and I sat next to her during the reunion supper. After I related the information to her that Marilyn had given me Marion looked me directly in the eye and stated, “That is insane! Julia and I were only one year apart. I was living with her at that time. We were just teenagers. How could I not have known if she had given birth to a child? That’s crazy!” she said firmly. “I think this is all being confused with Marilyn’s birth which occurred several years later?” “No Aunt Marion,” I replied. “Marilyn’s birth certificate clearly states that one daughter preceded her birth. That is clearly written on Marilyn’s birth certificate.” I stated. “Well, mistakes and errors occur all the time!” Marion replied. “It could not have happened. I was there! This simply could not have happened!” she concluded. Naturally I was disappointed that she could not, or would not, confirm my suspicions. However I did not believe her even though she appeared to be totally honest in her statements. I had observed that she was very tense and nervous when I questioned her and I felt perhaps she was hiding the truth from me in an attempt to protect me from what she may have considered to be too hurtful a truth? At 3:00 PM Pat and I decided to leave the family reunion. It had been a worthwhile yet disappointing day for me. Worthwhile because I was able to reestablish contact with those in my family I had loved. Disappointing because I was unable to discover the identity of my missing sister. The day had been terribly hot and we had a two-hour ride home. Pat was as anxious to leave as I was. I said my ‘goodbyes’ to my relatives. Although I did not know so at that time I would never see the majority of them again. My cousins Denise and Doug Mize, despite the fact that they were younger than I, both were to die within the next couple of years. This was also the final time I would see my uncles Hank, Ballell and Tony Cardoza as well as my aunt’s Marie and Louise. They all passed away shortly after the family reunion. Marion was the only remaining child of seven. As Pat and I were about to leave I looked amongst the crowd for Marilyn but I could not find her. I asked my cousin Irene to tell her I said ‘good-bye.’ My cousins Arlene and Denise walked Pat and I to our car where we had parked in front of The Tracy Floral and Gift Shop. There was now an ‘open’ sign placed in the window of the door. An attractive heavyset middle-aged woman stood in the doorway staring out at us. Judging from the irritated look on her face it was obvious she was upset because we had taken her customers parking space. I looked at her and called out, “I’m awfully sorry we parked in your customers parking space. I thought your shop was closed today?” She did not reply, turned and walked away. As Pat, my cousins and I said our farewells I could hear Marilyn calling my name. She was running towards us. “Wait! Wait! I have something for you! Wait!” she called breathlessly. A couple of moments later she stood at the side of my car where I was seated and bent her head forward into the cab and kissed me. As she did so I felt her place a piece of paper in my hand and then she closed my fist so the others could not see what she had done. “I got her name from Connie,” she whispered into my ear. It’s written on the piece of paper. Let me know what you find out.” I looked into my sister’s eyes. I smiled at her so that she would know the gratitude that I felt. “Thank you, so much Marilyn. Thank you!” I said with heartfelt sincerity. “I will find her. I am determined to. I will let you know just as soon as I do,” I whispered. Marilyn squeezed my hand one final time and smiled. As Pat drove away I looked down at my clasped hand. It was perspiring from the anticipation, the excitement of knowing that it held the name of the person I felt compelled to find. As our car turned the corner I looked down into the palm of my hand then opened it and read the note. Written in Marilyn’s handwriting were two names, “Veronica Lewis (Maiden name), Mrs. Roger Simon…or Simons or Simmons…or something like that? I couldn’t quite understand how Connie pronounced it?” was what the note said. I felt my eyes water with tears. “Oh God, Pat, I have her name! I got it! I got it! Her name is Veronica. Her Maiden name was Lewis and her married name is Mrs. Roger Simon’s or Simmons. It’s her! It’s her!” I said excitedly. “How do you know for sure?” Pat questioned. “I’m sure it’s her. I just know it! I’m positive it’s her!” I replied. “Don’t jump to conclusions,” Pat cautioned.” You will just disappoint yourself if the information should be wrong.” “It’s not wrong Pat. Mom’s favorite movie actress was Veronica Lake,” I said with a laugh. “ I’m sure she named the baby after her. Doesn’t that seem likely? A romantic young girl would very likely do something like that. It’s her Pat! My sister’s name is Veronica Lewis-Simmons! It’s her! It’s her! It’s her!” The
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