I may not  know the all the nuances as it is a painful yet ultimately joyous story but here it goes. My Mom was a novice postulate (year one for a nun) and Mother Superior took her aside and told her that this was not her calling. The nuns at the Convent of the Good Shepperd in Los Angeles in essence kick out a young girl who knew very little of the world. Once put out (I’m exaggerating a bit) she was lost and was helped out by a tall blonde guy who got her pregnant and she ended up ironically in another convent to give birth to a girl.   The worst  happened, they let my mom hold her and then took the baby away to be put up for adoption.  This painful event was the source of my mom’s amnesia to the point of using a hypnotherapist to recall dates and times. At  28 years old and after my brother Aaron’s death at age 21 my mom told me I had a sister.  The reason for this story is simple. My Sister lives here in Seattle and its one of the best things that happened to me so much I had to blog about it.  I joke with her since my dad was Mexican and hers wasn’t. I say we are chocolate and vanilla